The well-worn stock of a tri-beam laser rifle crashed through the front window of an old, half-collapsed gas station in the middle of the Mojave, a light wind blowing sand across the road a and onto the lower bodies of the group gathered around the front of the building. Upon closer examination, it could be observed that the men were wearing somewhat old sets of T-45D power armor, painted with the sword and cogs logo of the Brotherhood of Steel.
After cleaning out the remaining jagged chunks of glass from the window, the first man stepped through, moving towards the door and calmly pulling it open. This allowed a dusty robobrain to roll in, the tracks leaving a trail of dust along the black and white tile floor. It was obvious that the building had not been visited in a while, with the shelves still full of canned food and a fine layer of dust still covering the counters and floor.
"Alright, fan out, search for anything of value. Washington, get some readings, will you?" The larger of the men said, moving behind the counter and kneeling down. The man began rummaging through the cavity under the counter-top, obviously checking for anything of value.
Meanwhile, the robobrain began moving in a circling pattern around the far walls of the building, a small instrument poking out of the side and spinning. Once it concluded its lap around the store, the device returned to its previous position and the robot moved to the middle of the store, merely content with spinning its top section and beeping.
"Got somethin' here." The other said, hefting a portable terminal from the back storage room. His rifle was hung from a sling, dangling precariously next to his leg. It clapped against her metal-plated leg as he walked. After moving to his comrade's position, he neatly deposited his find on the counter, looking around the store.
"This'll be a good place, pretty good one, actually. One entrance-" the soldier
gestured towards the door, her comrade averting his gaze from the counter's underside towards the indicated location, nodding.
"Places to store our stuff, and some nice loot to boot. Washington, got anything to say?" The female voice concluded its assessment, looking towards the robobrain for confirmation,
"EXTERNAL SENSORS INDICATE STANDARD LEVELS OF RADIATION IN THE AIR. NO LIFE DETECTED WITHIN THE IMMIDEATE AREA. A FINE AREA INDEED, SIR." The robot spoke in a flat, monotone voice that was surprisingly loud but did not reverberate around the room, only reaching the men.
The larger man gripped the edge of the counter, lifting himself up. He set his tri-beam on the counter, walking over to the robobrain and gripping one of the several side bags that had been anchored onto the robot. The thing was obviously weighed down, but being a robot, it didn't complain.
The power-armored soldier gripped two sides of an object, lifting it up and out of the bag and onto the counter. A mouthpiece was wrapped around it, revealing itself to be a HAM radio.
"Alright, I'll get this thing set up and we can hit the sack. Need our energy for tomorrow, we're going to tidy this place up nice."
