Fallout RP- Systematic Annihilation

On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
On the vertipad - Forward staging base Fore Runner

"Lets mount up!" shouted the officer, grabbing his fire arm; a Glock 86 Plasma Pistol off of a load-out table, that sat against the rear wall of the shack.

Farmboy fallowed the officer's example, grabing a long arm, and a pistol - FN-FAL, and a 10mm Autoloader - and his standard load-out of ammunition; 24 rounds of .40 cal AP, 48 rounds of .40 cal JHP, and 140 rounds of 7.62 N.A.T.O ammunition - in magazines.

Theo grabbed a M3 Greese gun, and 4, 30 round .45 ACP Magazines, loading them into his combat-armor.

The young hispanic grabbed two 10mm Automatics, holstering them both, in the dual holsters that adorned his lower abdomon - fixed to the harnesses on his combat armor, the pustol grips both facing inward. He began to stuff his ammo pouches with 10mm ammunition.

"You realize those things are next to useless against the Enclave foot-soldiers, Dont'cha? Their armor can take those rounds like nothin' " said the officer.

"No sir- I did not realize that." said the hispanic.

"That being said- you might do better with Armor Pericing rounds - insted of Jacketed Hallow Point's. " said the officer.

"Yes sir. AP it is." he said -then rifiling through the .40 cal AP ammo bin.

"Same with you - Theo. I doubt those .45's will do much to enclave foot soldiers." he said

"What about 15.2's? "

"Well - Point made... Lets get going."

"Won't our nav-com's allert our dispatch friends in Navaro, asto our heading?" asked the hispanic.

"Yeah... Our plans won't be a secret for too awefull long." he said.

"Well - Lets get -to-the-gone. Every second that passes- is another second our brothers in VC are threatened." said Theo.

"Little Anxious, Theo?"

"Yeah... Anxious." he said- turning to his vertichick.

"Alright. Lets get going."

The four mounted up- the farmboy riding shotgun with Theo. The three's twin turbine engines fired at the same time. The radio crackled

"Hey - Old man. You ever see combat?" asked farm boy

"Combat?" he asked over the com.

"Yeah - Combat."

"Nah - Just violence" he said

* * *

Outside of new-reno

The sun peeked over the bluffs - its radiance illuminating the desert wasteland.

"Still - What are you doing out here, old timer?" asked jimmy

"Out...Were?" the drunk said

"About 20 miles north of New Reno." skeeter said

"Oh.... I thought we was in Reddin' " he said

"I thought you said - " skeeter was cut off

"Thought I said what, lether-skin?!" the drunk said- sounding enraged.

"Never-mind" said skeeter

"Anyways - I heard that reddin' aint no more"

"What?"

"Spooks hit Reddin' "

"Spooks?"

"Them - Crazies - that be runnin' arround unchecked." said the old man

"Crazies? The things that hit broken hills?"

"Yeah Them's crazies."

"Oh.... Hmm"

"I's allso herd that that- Angela-bishop done' did business wit' the Mettal critters"

"Mettal critters?"

"Them - Boogies that done tried to exterm-in-ate all us wastelanders- some 30 years ago."

"the... Enclave"

"Yeah - Them boogies...God I'mm Firsty - you' got anythin' ?"

"Uhh - Just some Nuka-Cola and Rott-" skeeter was cutt off by the drunk

"Rott-gut? Don't be mindin' if I do." he said- reaching into Jimmy's bag - Grabbing the bottle of amber liquid- poping the cork, and taking a deep swig.

"God-damnit Skeet- Why'd you have to tell him about - "

"You don't need it, Jim" said skeeter

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Jim - You've been hitting that shit too much; I'm worried about you man."

"You calling me an alcaholic?"

"No - I'm not calling you an alcey"
 
Off Course

(Looks like the board went crazy and posted your last post 15 times. It's been acting kind of weird these last few days.)

Julie Staley watched her radar screen, where the three vertichicks left the outpost. Instead of heading northwest towards the Den, though, their transponders showed them flying north. "What the-" she said, startled. Then she tried to contact the vertichicks. "This is Navarro dispatch. You're way off course. The bearing you're on will take you well east of the Den. Please respond. Over."

There was no reply. Julie tried again, but the stray vertichicks still didn't answer. This day was just getting worse and worse. Exasperated, she called the Brotherhood's bunker in NCR and reported the incident.

"This is Lord Paladin Jackson," came the stern voice of the Brotherhood's second in command. "It sounds to me like that bearing will take them to Vault City. Don't they know that place is a loss? We need everyone we can get to protect Navarro and the Den!"

"What should we do, sir?" she asked.

Jackson sighed. "There's not much we can do. We just don't have the resources to spare to go after them. The High Elder's not going to like this. I know they want to help out our brothers in Vault City, but they broke discipline and defied orders! They should have asked for permission first."

"I guess they were afraid you'd say no, sir."

"The Enclave's forces at Vault City are just too strong. Those pilots may think they can make a difference there, but they'll probably just end up getting themselves killed. If they don't, they can still make the Den in time for the battle and we'll deal with their disobedience afterwards. If they do, that'll be punishment enough. Jackson out."

Julie surveyed the map and shook her head. Redding was gone and Vault City was all but gone. Broken Hills had been hit badly, and the extent of the damage was still unknown. The Den, Klamath, and Navarro were due to be attacked. New Reno, the one place she wouldn't mind vanishing in the wastes, remained intact. And the New California Republic was on the verge of coming apart at the seams. As hard as her job was, she didn't want to switch places with the Lord Paladin. He truly had his work cut out for him.
 
High-speed, low drag ; So much for low profile

ooc: Wow. I wish I would have caught that earlyer. Now all that can be done is editing, I'll get right on that. all of these PhP forums have been acting up. Sorry for the duplicates.

I.C.

Nearly 120 feet above the High Desert wasteland

The Squawk crackled with the voice of Julie Staley - Warning the pilots of the verti-chicks of their current heading.

And then the shortwave crackled - with the voice of the Farm boy.

"Hey, Old timer. You gonna get that?"

The officer then responded "We're already disobeying orders, Going off mission, and commandeering brotherhood property. I Don't think theres too much that can be said."

"Boy - Jackson'd kick you're ass if he herd that speech, Sir." responded Theo

"Jackson will have my head, if we make it out of this mess alive."

"So - Do you think we can actually make a difference in VC?" asked the hispanic, over the shortwave.

"Enclave boys won't know what hit 'em - Their probably concentrating on mop-up work." said the officer

"Is... This line secure?" asked Theo

"What?" said the hispanic

"Well - I've herd stories of civilians picking up transmissions sent by enclave scouting parties, Like that Metzger fella - I hear he sits in his Hovel, in the den - rambling on about the enclave these days."
said the hispanic

"Metzger? The infamous slave trader? Ha! Horse shit!" said theo

"No joke - He's bed-ridden now; Just sits there, rambling on about the enclave. Guess he had a run-in with these guys, before their off-shore oil-rig was taken out. Out on a slave run - Reliving his glory days. Guess he was the only one of his party left alive. Took a plasma bolt to the chest." said the hispanic

"Brahmin shit! The Enclave dosent leave survivors!"

"They snatched the villagers, and bugged out. Metzger was lucky enough to be preoccupied. His boys were more infactuated with the verti-bird they rode in on."

"And how would you know this?" said the farm boy

"I'm just going off of what the bastard wrote, in his mimers"

"You read metzgar's mimers?"

"Yeah... I did. Any-way - What if the enclave can pick up our transmissions?"

"Nahh - Not too much power behind these radios.. We sould be fine." said the officer

"Right..." said the hispanic.

"Alright- ETA?"

"Two hours... at current speed"

"Well - Lets kick things up! We can cut that by three-quarters" said the officer

"Heh - Diverting power to thrust... "

"roger that "

The three vertibirds seemed to pick up speed simotamiously- nearly tripling their current speed. They took a delta formation - gliding seamlessly above the mountainous surface.


The Den : Streets

The paladin, mutant, and Ranger stepped from the elevator, into the ally-way.

"I think we need to pay the Martial a visit." said the Mutant.

"I wasn't aware that The Den had a martial" said Kagel

"apparently, The Den has a martial... but- Martial Wells isn't much of a Peace Officer. He's about as corrupt as they get." said the mutant.

"Well... Perchance we sould pay him a visit." asked kagel

Ramsies drew one of his 1911's. "I've got something for 'em"

"Ramsies- You can't kill the Martial."

"Sound's like I would be doing the wasteland a favor."

"Never the less... We can't kill him." said Kagel.

Suddenly- a volley of gunfire irrupted. 10mm Piperifles Blazed. There were 7 men with these make-shift weapons. The projectiles missed their marks, Though both the Ranger, and Paladin had their weapons drawn. Ramsies had one of his 1911's drawn - Kagel had the 10mm SMG shouldered. Gabe looked for anything that could be thrown, or used to ubstruct the firing capacity of the armed men.

These improvised weapons were very common. More so than any other fire-arm in the waists.

Quickly- Kagle responded with a 3 round burst, hitting one of the armed men twice in the chest, and once in the chin - penetrating straignt through - into the brainstem.

Ramsies responded by squeezing the trigger of the 1911 twice - two projectiles hit one of the reloading gunner's in the hand, covering his chest- and the second in the sternum - fracturing the bone plate.

One of the five un-tetched gun-men had managed to slip another cartridge into the breach - taking aim, at the mutant. He squeezed the trigger. Another slug was added to gabies collection of slugs.

The shooter was quickly cut down, by another 10mm burst. He slumped to the ground - suffering three slugs, puncturing vital organs. Blood quickly began to pool.

Gabe turned- seeing a burning barrel - whcih had been used to cook an iguana, moments before. He gripped the barrel- lifting it over his head- and lobbed the burning barrel, at one of the standing gun-men. The barrel hit, knocking the man onto his back- breaking his jaw, nose, ribs, and causing sever internal-himmeraging - The concussion knocked the man unconscious. Burning trash spilled onto the street. Re-enforcements poured from the pub, that lay across the street, from the narrow ally-way interence.

These men armed with an assortment of hunting rifles, pipe-rifles, double-barreled shotguns, and handguns.

"Damnit! So-much for low-profile!" said the paladin, taking aim at one of the fresh gunmen - this one armed with an Auto-loading pistol. Kagel took careful aim - and squeezed the trigger. a slug punctured the man's left eye. The exit wound sprayed grey-matter behind the man. The other two rounds missed, though the man was dropped.

The elevator behind the three opened - 4 brotherhood, armed with FN-FAL's entered the street - placing themselves between the two parties, the four taking a knee. Their weapons seemed to blaze at once, leveling the opposition. The gore of the dead gunmen littered the streets. The survivors fled, most of which, suffering gunshot wounds.

"Jesus- Christ! Wher'd these guys come from?!" Asked the ranger, dropping his mag- replacing it with a fresh one.

"You... sould be aware- the citizens of The Den are... not too friendly, towards us." said one of the brotherhood.
 
Race Against Time

Lord Paladin Sam Jackson entered the council room and reported the latest to Yogi Maxson. The High Elder shook his head and frowned. "Most disturbing this is. Those vertichicks' presence in the Den will be sorely missed, but no more reinforcements from Navarro can be spared. It must be held. If Navarro falls, cut off the Den will be anyway."

"What is it with Steel Knights abandoning their posts and going off on their own against orders?" asked Jackson. "This keeps happening throughout Brotherhood history, and no amount of discipline seems to stop it."

"Wrestled with this problem for decades I have. Rebellion is hidden within the human heart, and from time to time it surfaces. Remember also, founded by soldiers defying orders the Brotherhood was."

"Those orders were utterly immoral, though, and issued by some of the people who founded the Enclave. It was Roger Maxson's duty to refuse them. There's no call for disobeying our lawful orders, though."

Yogi nodded. "Disagree with how our pilots are behaving I may, but hope they are successful I do."

"Yeah, I hear you. Benjamin Kent and his young Initiate are trapped in Vault City. If Angus Starkiller truly is the next Chosen One, he has to survive."

"Too much is still unknown about the prophecies. If he does not survive, the Chosen One he must not have been. Much watching that one bears."

"Chosen One or not, he sure has potential. So does that dispatcher I spoke to at Navarro, Junior Knight Staley. I think she blames herself for those vertichicks going AWOL, but it really wasn't her fault. She has amazing endurance, and can cope with stress better than anyone else I've ever trained. I don't think even she realizes how much she's capable of. I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

<center>* * *</center>
Julie Staley held her forehead in her hand. She had gone to bat for the old man to get permission from Lord Paladin Jackson, her former mentor, for his squadron to divert to the Den, only to have him head off to Vault City on his own and leave her holding the bag. She could understand why he had done it, but the way he was going about it didn't sit well with her. He still didn't respond to her repeated hails.

As Julie observed her radar, she noticed that the three rogue vertichicks were zooming across the screen at incredible speed. "What do you guys think you're doing?!" she asked them. "Looks like you just kicked in the afterburners! If you do that, you might not have enough fuel to reach the Den after Vault City. You sure won't be able to reach Navarro and refuel. That means you'll be stuck on the ground even if you do make it to the Den, and we need your chicks to fly combat missions. Over."

There was still no answer. All Julie could do was watch as they raced towards Vault City. But would they get there in time to do any good?

<center>* * *</center>
Rex waited by the Vault's entrance. It had been almost thirty minutes since he had called for the nerve gas. He had no problem waiting, but his soldiers were getting impatient and itching for action.

"Sir," came a voice over his radio, "the VX canisters have been loaded and secured aboard a deuce-and-a-half. It just left the staging area and should be at your position in five minutes. Over."

"Excellent," he said. "Rex out." He addressed his troops. "Get ready, boys. It won't be long now."
 
over the wastes

"You gonna answer that, Sir? " asked Theo, over the short wave

"Dispatch has a point. But then again - not much of a chance we're making it out... or into VC, intact." said the hispanic

The officer keyed the squawk, The static was interrupted by silence, and then the sound of the officer's breathing; and the turbines whipping the air.

"Dispatch... This is V-Chick Wing Echo Two Niner lead. Beginning sorties against Enclave invasion force. ETA to Vault city, 25 minutes at current speed. Over"

The old man awaited a response, as a bead of sweat rolled down the center of his forehead, and down the center of his nose.

"What's Jackson's punishment for going Rouge?" the Farmboy asked theo

"I wouldn't know" Theo responded.

"Don't much know why anyone in their right mind would attempt a stunt like thi-" farm boy was cut off

"Shut the hell up, Travis! The last thing we need is you second guessing everythin! Don't talk about, or Critique any of the choices made today! It'll do nothin but harm!" Theo irrupted.

The farm-boy remained silent.


The Den : Streets

Two of the brotherhood riflemen escorted the three through the streets. the citizens fallowed the five, Talk of the shootout surrounded the group. Gabe looked over his shoulder, he saw an old grey dog, gnawing on the arm of one of the dead gunmen. The dog was promptly Shooed away, by an older female, who grabbed the dead gunman by the hands, and pulled his corpse off of the street. Her eyes appeared to watter, though Gabe couldn't tell.

"I don't remember the Den ever being this bad.." said Gabe, turned his head back forward.

"...We tell them now" said the paladin

"Right. " said the ranger. He turned, and stopped - and drew his 1911, raising the weapon into the air. he then squeezed the trigger. everything seemed to stop around the group, at that moment, the citizens were quiet - some tried to run - but were halted by those behind them. The shot echoed through the town square

"Listen up! Less than 24 hours ago, Enclave biowepons destroyed the mining town of redding!" Yelled the paladin, to the silent citizens.



"Some of you may know of the weapons, as Redemption! By a rough estimate, They will reach The Den, in less than 72 hours. Brotherhood forces are En Route, to help set up a defence; But we can't go it alone. We urge - anyone that can pick up a weapon- to stand with us! And anyone that can't fight, to flea, to Klameth falls.
Anyone that will stand with us... Needs to report to Smities Junkyard, for assignment. Remember; The fate of this city, and that of all wastelanders lay in you're hands! I urge you, We urge you! Stand with us! So you, and you're children may live! So that we may live free of fear! Free of reprisal! Free of threat from the Enclave Dogs!*Short pause* May god help us all. Each and every one of us."


The group cleared a path through the mass of citizens- The Citizens of the den clearing from the due path of the five.

"I don't think there's going to be much of a tern-out... Doubt anyone will buy it." said one of the riflemen

"God... I hope they do... They might get the hint when re-enforcements arrive."

The group continued too Smitties Junkyard. The sound of verti-bird turbines cutting the air in the distance was noted by the mutant

"Speak of the Devil"
 
Stand By for Action

"Hey, stranger," Julie replied to the lead pilot in Wing Echo Two Niner. "Didn't think you were talking to me any more. I guess you realize there's nothing anyone can do to stop you, but if you make it through this alive there's going to be hell to pay. I don't think the Lord Paladin will execute you or anything, since we need every Knight we can get. I'll put in a good word for you guys with him, but he's still going to come down hard. For what it's worth, good luck out there. Over."

Julie returned her attention to the radar. The first of the six birds that had left Navarro earlier this morning had just reached the Den, and the other five weren't far behind. As soon as they let out their passengers, they would go into action to slow down the advancing hordes. The first few aircraft from San Francisco were approaching and due to arrive in twenty to thirty minutes. A solitary blip was coming into Navarro from the Den, which would get there around the same time. This had to be Team Scimitar's damaged vertibird, which would get priority clearance to land. The landing pads were already being prepared, and a medical team was standing by to help the wounded soldier.

A team from maintenance came up in the elevator so as to be ready to bring the damaged vertibird into the hangar and get it airworthy as soon as possible. One of them was Junior Scribe Melvin Kramer. Julie waved and smiled at him as they went by. Melvin sheepishly waved back and walked out to the landing area with the rest of his group. Julie's thoughts wandered as she stared after him; then she came back to reality and shook her head. The impending Enclave invasion didn't scare her all that much, so why was she afraid of her own feelings?

<center>* * *</center>
Deep within the Vault, Harold watched the monitors with increasing concern. When he saw the truck pull up in the ruins, he radioed Garret and informed him.

"I wonder what they're up to," said the Paladin.

"I dunno," said Grimmy, "but I sure don't wanna stand around waiting to find out."

"Whatever it is, it won't be good. I think we've got no choice but to attack. We've waited this long, so at least they shouldn't be expecting it."

Jex nodded in agreement. "I'm ready any time," he said. "I'll take point. I'm very resistant to enemy fire, so I'd be best suited to rush the turrets and take them out."

"They're unloading some kind of canisters from the back of the truck," Harold told Garret. "Uh oh. I think they're cooking with gas."

"That's it, then," said Garret. "Form up, everyone. We're going on the offensive!"
 
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