CHAPTER 32
Inner Conflict.
Some of the winding concrete veins that went down in the ribbed pattern to the lowest level of the quarry were linked with metal walkways and railings, and of course, after two-hundred years, not all of those metal attachments were still standing.
Sanford and the Deathclaw had to hop down the sides of some of the paths to get at the ones below them somewhat safety- as the areas with the winding metal ways dropped down rectangular crevices all the way to the bottom level- in other words, they were one-way falls. Not really agreeable.
CLLM
-The X-01 left spider-crack patterns of fissures where the boots hit the concrete each time Sanford hopped down from one path to another- he would uncurl from a kneel each time, the servos whining healthily, without difficulty- before jumping again.
The Deathclaw was more lithe about scaling down the quarry's sides- she landed soundlessly, and on her heels perfectly before waiting for him to catch up, and going down the next level.
Hancock was practically laughing at them as he hovered down each winding level without effort overhead.
"And the robots with no spindly legs win once more! Take THAT! Plebians!"- Came from ahead- and Sanford looked up after hopping down another winding way.
CLLM
"-The robot with no spindly legs is gonna' wish he never came back in about two seconds." Sanford snapped.
"Bah! Blow it out your ear, gorilla!"
"Are your scans picking up anything?"
"Are YOURS?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Then why in the shit are you asking me?! I don't have DIFFERENT scanners than you, do I?!"
"...Ugh..."
"Didn't think so! Hancock '1', Sanford- a big fat '0'!"
Sanford didn't even bother to respond- and it was a mere few minutes later, before there was a final CLLM -emitted from his boots hitting the concrete, and around him was the shipping yard, lined with brief and uneven stacks of large, metal, and rusty containers.
The forklifts he had seen from above, now in greater detail- were just as ruined as every other piece of equipment here- and faded on their chipped, yellow paint and on their lower flanks, Sanford could make out insignia decales reading- HAVEN CORP -in bold white, angled letters.
"...So," Sanford muttered, looking around the hauntingly silent yard. "Those messages I showed the two of you... Weird?"
"Yes." The Deathclaw nodded, lazily stepping over to a forklift buggy to peer slightly into the open cab. "This company was investigated by your country before the bombs?"
"Accordingly." Sanford shrugged, minding her experimental prodding at the thin little steering wheel protruding from the buggy's rusted controls and dashboard. "I just thought those logs were really weird- I mean, have either of you heard of a- 'Calth'? Or someone named Calth?"
"No." The Deathclaw mumbled, pinching the wheel between two fingers and listening to it creak as she rolled it a bit. "Could it some kind of coding error, monsieur'?"
"Coding error? What do you-?"
"HOLY CRAP!"
"-DAH! W-What?" Sanford jumped and turned around to see Hancock flying back out from behind one of the shipping containers- he had something in his claw, and, when Sanford squinted at it, he groaned in dread. "Oh... GOD, Han', not again!"
"I FOUND ANOTHER CHEF-HAT! AHHH-HA-HA!" Hancock flicked the little headwear with his claw, casting dust into the air- and propped it neatly on the center top of his chassis cranium, adjusting it with nudges from his Plasma gun arm. "Call me- Cookin' with Gas Master CHEF, Hancock! Ha-ha!"
The robot sounded very pleased with himself, and added in-
"-Ah, you see what I did there? No otherworldly titles or mentions here!"
"Oh you're otherworldy, alright." Sanford sighed. "-As I was saying... I don't think the Mutants would've let something else live right next to them, but, just keep your eyes open, guys, okay?"
"Sur'." The Deathclaw ducked underneath the roof of the cab and flicked the rusty key still in the ignition. "Haunted underground tunnels? Laughable."
"Who said anything about this place being haunted?" Sanford smiled.
"It's obvious whoever the pequenaud' is who wrote those log files believed it," She responded, ducking back out and away from the forklift buggy to face him. "I could never understand the belief in ghosts."
"...Well, I mean, there isn't any scientific proof, yeah," Sanford stepped around her and the buggy, and started to proceed deeper into the digsite, towards the big metal bulkhead in the concrete arch ahead. "-But me and Han' have seen some pretty weird shit out here."
"As have I." The Deathclaw raised a brow, following by his side. "But the- 'Super-natural'-? Non'. Can't say I have that."
"I don't know what you call it... Interesting subject matter though."
"Bah, interesting-sminteresting..." Hancock waved his buzzsaw dismissively. "Are we gonna' check this dump out or not?"
"Big iron door of death, here we come." Sanford joked.
"Sanford." The Deathclaw chuckled. "A door of death?"
"Who knows." Sanford replied musingly.
The three of them waltzed up to this big door- it was multi-plated with riveted sheets of steel, and a pair of large crank wheels were on the right lower flank- the locking mechanism users had to turn before the door could be physically pushed open.
Sanford saw that they indeed would have to push it if they wanted to see what was inside- because any electrical systems that would have the entry open automatically obviously weren't working anymore.
The door was actually REALLY big- it was three times as tall as he was, and wide enough to support the chassis of a truck passing through it- this must have been a loading tunnel, there was probably a ramp or an underground lane that lead to the quarry's deeper sections, or maybe even a lift.
Sanford stepped up close to the door and leaned up with a whine of motors to see its very top against the concrete arch- he blinked, raised a gauntlet, and wrapped the knuckles twice on the metal.
CLUNG CLUNG...
-Hollow, it didn't budge, that was a good sign of it not being rigged or something crazy.
Looking over his pauldron, he angled his head back for the Deathclaw to help him push- and when she joined at his side, pressed her scaly palms to the metal of the door- Sanford nodded, and the two of them started heaving.
rrrrrrRRRRRMMMMMMMMMM -The door made a deep, thrumming, and ringing moan that echoed across the loading yard- and to Sanford's shock, it started to swing open with little to no problem.
Stepping back, he reached over and grabbed her wrist, taking her back with him- the two watched the large mechanical door part with creaking, industrial-sized hinges, and groaning plates.
A large square-like blackness was shown to them the more and more the large door slowly dragged itself out of their path- and they both jumped when the rear of the entry bumped against the left concrete wall inside with a resounding- CLM!
-Dust disgorged in ghostly sheets off the archway above- Sanford cocked his head, and Hancock flew up next to him to look inside the great tunnelway ahead.
There was a chamber- a really BIG chamber inside- it looked cored out from the raise in the land they faced, as the wall of the quarry's pit. Sanford reached over his side and grabbed up his SMG, held it at the ready, and trotted into the fringes of the shadows.
The Deathclaw followed- and soon, after a few blink-selections in Sanford's internal HUD, and recalibration from Hancock's scanners- all three of them were able to see perfectly in the dark of the interior.
A large outcrop of concrete extended, and then ended for a sudden drop below in the shape of a large rectangular opening- the cieling was square-like, crisscrossed with titanium lattice that ran down the far walls up ahead in large girder protrusions that vanished into the blackness of the drop.
There were four metal pillars that jutted out in a sqaure grid from the center of the rectangle pit that went deeper- Sanford saw toothed lanes going down one side facing each other on each pylon- they were riddled with wires and each had a copper-colored pipe running down along its spine.
Going deeper into the chamber- Sanford and Hancock checked both sides with quick glances, and the Deathclaw continued to gaze at the pylons in intrique- as she wasn't so cautious, seeing as she smelled nothing out of the oridnary.
"It's a lift." Sanford muttered- impressed at how silent it was that his low speech still bounced around for a few seconds in the great chamber. "Probably for trucks."
Hancock flew over to the edge of the concrete outcrop- he leaned over a reinforced fence-like barricade of steel that ridged the outcrop's edge all the way down to both ends of the chamber- where a few more shipping crates were stacked and unused on both sides.
There was a large control panel rightwards, that was by where the metal barrier broke in exchange for two large gears that were held in steel moorings, encased in protective structuring as hinges for a pair of retractable gates that opened outwards if they were to be activated.
Caution stripes were painted over the bland silvery colors of the barrier here on the gates- WARNING signs plastered all over it- an inactive alarm light on the top tip of each hinge block.
"...What is this, monsieur'?" The Deathclaw asked, looking at the gates.
"That control panel probably opens them," Sanford nodded for the large console on the right. "They're gates- for trucks to pass through."
"I dunno', sir... This has boogey-man written all over it!" Hancock said, coming back from leaning over the edge. "I ran a few sweeps for whatever is down there..."
"...And?" Sanford asked after a pause.
"I couldn't get anything, damn it!" Hancock snapped. "There's some weird-ass interference! You've been getting it too, monkey-man!"
"...Well, yeah, but I didn't think it was a thing with you too."
"Blasphemy!"
"So then, there's something in this quarry that's messing up our scanners," Sanford stepped to the control panel- he peered around and over it at the blackened depths ahead and below. "...You think the lift still works?"
"Monsieur', are we sure this is worth the possible risk?" The Deathclaw chose that moment to interject- she raised an eye-ridge. "What if the lift DOES work, and then it breaks or malfunctions once we're down there? And there isn't another tunnel we can take?"
"I doubt about the lack of tunnels," Sanford reasoned. "We got dropped in an attachment to this facility... Look how far that was, and it had its own exit. This quarry probably has a good number of them."
"...I just don't like it." She huffed. "Awfully anticlimactic to starve to death in some stupid mine."
"Nah, don't fret, Chameleo'!" Hancock laughed. "We'll just cook you and make alligator weenies'! Flame-thrower broiled alligator meat! MMMHmm!"
"...Han', you don't eat." Sanford sighed- toying with some of the switches on the control panel.
"That can change!" Hancock spiraled around and noted this as the Deathclaw frowned to his suggestion.
"We could always smash you into a million pieces and drain the engine coolant for campfire fuel, usiner'." She smiled devilishly.
"The HAN'! Will never be a campfire, Newt-Nuggets!"
"Maybe we can nail all your plates together and make a ladder if we get trapped, and then we'll leave it here for good measure."
"Ah-ha! But we could skin you and make a new snake-skin parka' to keep warm!"
"-GUYS! Please, both of you shut up!" Sanford growled, pressing buttons on the console with tiny creaks and clicks. He saw a big red one- and blinked at it. "...Hey, Han'? Lookie' here."
"WHAT IS IT, YOU SLANTED WAX APPLICATION?!" Hancock zoomed over, and looked closer with all three ocu-lenses when Sanford smiled and pointed to the button.
"Big, RED, button, Han'. Don't you want to press it?"
"...Damn you and your knowledge of my weaknesses!"
"I try."
"By hell I do! HEE-YAH-!" CLK -Hancock's claw shoved the bulbous button down at the tip- and not even a second later, Hancock zoomed back from the console with a woosh from his thruster- and spiraled around a few times, glancing about the chamber- waiting for something to happen.
Sanford held in a laugh, snickering through his nose- and Hancock looked back and forth, and then at him again.
The Deathclaw crossed her arms- not sure of what the deal was.
"...Can someone explain whats's happening?" She said.
"I'll tell ya' what's happening! I just got ripped off!" Hancock barked. "Big, shiny, red, BUTTON! The thing that must be pressed! Not some wimp-ass blue button, a big RED BUTTON! I fulfill this notion... AND NOTHING! BAH! HUMBUG!"
"You're preaching to the choir, man." Sanford lifted his arms.
"Screw the choir! The Han' makes his own music! And it's a HELL of a lot better!"
"You're insane."
"DAMN PROUD TO BE! Now... What do you all say we grab some beers and-"
WHM
-BMM
-All at once, the two industrial gates squeaked, the gears screamed lightly once, and both elongated barriers flew open outwards, and the right one made a horrible, clattering crash when it basically swatted into Hancock, and sent the robot careening in an airborne tumble.
"-WAAAAHH!" Hancock spiraled right past the Deathclaw's face- where she hopped back with a hiss of startlement, and watched, in shock- the robot roll and flail about the ground in a tumbling fall onto the concrete
Again, there was that sound of a bag of tin-cans getting tossed about.
"BWA-HA-HA-HA!" Sanford shrieked- leaning back with a cackle of laughter- he pointed at the sprawled robot with a raised gauntlet and subsequent finger. "-HA! HA-HA! Oh, oh, LAWRD', that was- just- HA!"
"-Oh Christ! I think I pulled a wire!" Hancock cried from the ground. "You little shit!"
"That's for the bitch-slap a few days ago, Han'!" Sanford was cracking himself up. "That was just... Awesome!"
"I'm so glad you're entertained by this." The Deathclaw rolled her eyes.
"Oh don't be boring." Sanford waved a hand at her, stepping away from the console as the robot shot back up to his regular flotation.
"I'll REMEMBER that, sir..." Hancock growled.
"I'm sure, I probably just gave you more memory-chip damage than what was already there."
"I'm old, JUDGE ME!"
"Old and dented."
"I'll show you dented!"
"I feel like I'm dealing with younglings..." The Deathclaw ran a palm down her long face with a hissing drag of scales. "-Can you merde's pull yourselves together and focus?"
"Yeah-yeah, alright, alright..." Sanford sighed. "That was funny though."
CLK
CLM
CLM
CLM
clkclkclkclkkclkclcklckclkclcklckclkckclclk
-"Uhm... What was that?" Sanford asked dumbly.
Machinery echoed from the drop behind him- the sounds of something turning, clunking, and shifting- it was getting louder, because whatever it was, was coming from below in the drop, physically rising higher.
Sanford wheeled around, dropping his jokes- he glanced at the Deathclaw and Han', backed away from the console and raised his SMG.
The three of them hunched over and watched the blackness of the far chamber ahead- weapons, and one set of claws- primed for whatever was coming up on the lift without their activation. Two hearts were pumping and one memory processor was trying and failing to come up with a comment about stained underpants.
clkclkclkclkclclcklcCLKCLCKCLCKLCKCLCKCLKCLCKCLCK
SSHHHMM
BMM
BMM
CLK
-A metal lift platform, silvery colored with black and yellow caution patterns painted up and down its rusty, chipped surface- materialized from the dark below, a gear acting as pulley on four flanks of it that lined with each of the four pillars that acted as the skeletal structure.
The platform bucked as it locked into place, at same height level as the chin of the concrete outcrop it attached against- something hissed steam, and all grew still and silent again.
...There was no one on the lift, no item or thing, no person or creature... Empty. Empty and somehow drawn up to this level on its own.
"...What the shit?" Sanford mumbled after a minute or two. "I-I... I guess I pressed a button, huh?"
"No-no. Somethin' ain't right here, sir!" Hancock stated. "It's obviously one of the Clintons offering us another false promise! BURN IT WITH HOLY FIRE!"
"-SSh!" Sanford hissed.
"It's obviously a TRAP, monsieur'." The Deathclaw said. "This isn't a good idea, someone wants us to take that lift."
"...Alright, we should think about this..."
"Think about leaving, mon ami'?"
"Just back up for a minute, let's go back outside," Sanford nodded. "I just want to see what it does if we don't go on it."
"But, sir! It needs to be destroyed like the un-Godly thing it is!"
"Stop ranting and lets go, c'mon."
-0-0-0-0-0-
Laslar was taking a preference in leaning out the ajar troop hatch of the Vertibird- as the 7th had modified two of their craft with open bays, that had 20 millimeter' autocannon mounts that jutted slightly out of them- with an independent seat and panel for a soldier to sit at.
The guns had foldable mountings- so they could be angled and directioned in a 90' degree turn out the sides of the Vertibird- it was a conversion that wasn't undertaken by units serving in 'Front Line'- sectors because of the open-topped nature... But on missions as this, the autocannons were very effective against wildlife or natives.
Laslar held onto the side of the large gun's blastshield just after the seat with a fully-armored soldier at the controls- wind whipped by and produced a howling whistle in Laslar's hearing.
He held his Plasma Archer on handed at his side- peering over the left chin of the Vertibird's cockpit ahead, to see the front of the underbelly passing terrain below.
In the backdrop, maybe another minute or two away- Laslar could see the whitish concrete of the quarry he had been told of and was deploying to- he saw a small array of metal huts setup nearby, and the rolling hills surrounding it.
The compound appeared desolate- and he glanced when the soldier beside him yanked back the 20 mil's large bolt.
"Alright!" Laslar called into his communication uplink- there were five men in the hold behind him, not including the two pilots in the cab, and the other autocannon operator on the opposite flank of the bay. "Vertibirds 2 , and 3, drop in after Squad Laslar engages any hostile ground targets- Vertibird 4 has immediate infantry support- all 'birds will circle and provide covering fire once we've all dropped!"
Laslar turned around, still clenching the side of the blastshield for the autocannon- he nodded at Sergeant Luft, he stuck a fresh battery into the Laser Sniper Rifle in his gauntlets.
"Sergeant Luft will be dropped at the top of the qaurry ring! Squad Franko?"
"Aye sir?" -This came from Sergeant Franko in Vertibird 2- he and one man from his squad were attached to the landing, wielding Heavy Flamers.
"You'll drop behind my position on my mark, ON mark!"
"Affirmative."
"Alright people, for the Enclave, let's fuck them up."
-0-0-0-0-0-
Sanford kept facing the interior of the chamber as he backed away- he had his gun slightly raised, and a nervous scrunch to his features- that lift freaked him out.
Either there was some motion-sensor system that had been activated, and, the lift had come up because some old pre-War systems still worked and detected what it thought was workers or a truck- or, someone was in the quarry and controlling it remotely.
He didn't like the last possibility- that was the last thing they needed was ANOTHER group of Mutants or Raiders, that instead of just shooting at them were now trying for something more stealthy. It was never good when Raiders got smart. Never.
"We should close this door and forget about it." The Deathclaw chimed in again. "It's not worth it."
"I hate to agree with Lizard-cakes, sir, but... She's got a point." Hancock added.
Sanford glanced at the two of them, and then back at the chamber inside the big concrete archway- he sighed, and nodded his head.
"...Alright, look, you're both right, you're right." He started to lower his gun, and he turned around to look at his robotic and reptilian allies. "But, especially with you, Hancock- you know there could be some good stuff to help us in there, right? That's what I'm thinking of."
"It's an admirable goal, Sanford," The Deathclaw said. "I'm not questioning your motives, I'm questioning what we can expect, mon ami'."
"I smell fishy-business! That, or... Scale-face didn't wash herself good."
"Vous' petit' batard'!"
CLK
"-OW! Sanford! SAN-FORD! She slapped me!"
"You earned it."
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah, man, you-" Sanford's gaze was suddenly drawn to three growing abnormalities in the perfectly clear blue sky just over the Deathclaw's shoulder- he squinted, leaned forwards, and stepped between the two of them. "-Oh no."
"Monsieur'?" The Deathclaw asked. "What is it?"
"Yeah! What's the- Oh... OH! OH CRAP! HOLY CHEESE GRATERS!" Hancock picked up the signal before his ocu-lenses turned and followed Sanford's eyes.
whmwhmwhmwhmwhmWHMWHMWHMWHMWHMWHM
-Rotary blades.
Shit.
The Deathclaw spun around and went wide-eyed to the three angular shapes that were spreading in an arrowhead formation in the air a bit away from the quarry- it was only another minute or two before those Vertibirds were right on top of them.
"...Merde'." She grumbled. "Not THEM."
"We need to get back inside the quarry." Sanford stated. "NOW."
"I-I..." She was torn. What choice did they have? Braving the possible trap? Or an entire unit of Enclave soldiers with air support? "...F-Fine, FINE! Yes, monsieur'!"
"Tactical retreat! CHECK!" Hancock started to levitate backwards.
"Run!" Sanford barked.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Vertibird 4 was at the head of the formation- with 2 to its left flank, and 3 to its right- it was the only VB-02 in the flight that had the open-topped autocannon conversions done to its flanks, and it was also the lead craft carrying Superintendent Laslar and his squad.
There were ten other men in each Vertibird- including Sergeant Franko and his one man, that meant that once Laslar and his four men hit the ground, and Luft was high- eighteen more soldiers would arrive to reinforce them while the Vertibirds kept the enemy pinned, and Luft had perfect sniping opportunity.
The quarry digsite stopped coming at the nose of the craft as fast- and slowly, the Vertibird's engine modulators howled, the propellers chopped the air in a reverberating pattern, the nose raised and the Vertibird slowed its approach.
The pilot dipped the craft to the right- by the top eastern edge of the quarry's crater- and Sergeant Luft stepped past two of the men in the bay, held onto the side of his flank's respective autocannon. The bay lurched and gravity made him sway in his stance- servo motors hissing in his armor.
He leaned forwards and peered at the several foot drop out of the troop hold's floor ledge- he breathed, gripped his rifle two-handed, and counted to three.
...2...3.
-Then he jumped.
CLLM
-The concrete cracked when he sailed through the air for all but two seconds, the whistling stopped, the weightlessness ceased- and a great resistence jolted his legs roughly, but with little discomfort as the armor compensated for the impact.
Luft was on a single knee, boots half-embedded into the concrete court below his heels- with a creak of steel, whining of servos- the Sergeant stood to his full height, and cast dust and shredded gravel from his footwear when he stepped out of the small spider-cracks he'd created.
He adjusted the scope on his rifle, hurried over to the rim of the drop he faced- and looked down into the loading yard at the quarry's lowest level.
He saw them- moving back for a large, ajar doorway into a concrete arch.
A man in Power Armor- a variant that made him edgy- it was a late one, it looked strikingly like one of the Enclave variant X-01 suits he'd seen officers wearing. Up until now, Luft had never seen an X-01 that wasn't in Enclave hands.
This would be interesting.
Luft fell to one knee- the armor hissing- he raised his rifle, and peered through the scope lined with his helmet's lens.
The Deathclaw was an imposing creature- albeit a little shorter than some of the wild ones he'd seen- it was moving back for the arch- faster than he could track it. There was a robot- a pre-War 'Mr. Gutsy'- model that was flying just behind it.
Luft steadied his grip on the rifle.
Easy pickings.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Vertibird 4 swung back sideways when Luft hopped out- the belly reoriented towads the loading yard below- it was a mere few seconds later, that a blaring thud and crack of concrete symbolized the arrival of the Superintentdent.
CLLM
-The Power Armored titan stood half-knelt- and rose with whirring servos, and hissing systems in his customized suit. The refraction field was flickering whimsically over his body, and he had his Plasma Archer raised- and the first thing he leveled it for, was this man garbed in the exoskeleton.
He winced.
It was indeed, an X-01 variant. He was interested to know how this Wastelander had gotten his hands on it. Didn't matter- he'd be dead, and dead men didn't tell tales in his book.
CLLM
CLLLM
CLM
CLM
-All four of his men landed one after the other beside each other in a neat, quad-row. They rose quickly, and aimed Plasma Rifles over their leader's shoulders.
"Spread out! Two left, two right!" Laslar barked- he compressed the trigger of his gun.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Sanford heard a variety of things all at once.
He heard the ozone-like discharge of an energy weapon- a single shot- and as he was sprinting with thudding footfalls towards the archway to the lift chamber they'd abandoned- he glanced quickly to his side, and saw Hancock react to the results of said gunshot.
The robot must have detected whoever had shot at him- because nimbly, Hancock zipped low across the concrete, and a pair of red beams scythed inches over his position- one after the other- and kicked away dust with each miss.
Hancock flew in a U-turn, and hid himself behind the corner of one of the large, rusty shipping containers- and no sooner did he do this did another red beam slack off the container's flank with a flicker of sparks.
vvvvvvvVVVVVVVMMMM
-Sanford knew that sound. It terrified him.
He took a sharp turn in his run- and he ducked behind one of the forklift buggies that was out in the concrete opens- the vehicle shifted when he nudged into it, the tires making a sickly little creak. He breathed heavily, and peered over the seat in the open cab.
A few contrails of flourescent green wavered up from the other side of the forklift- he heard a boiling sound- yet, before he could even BEGIN to process that- the first Vertibird gunship that had swung in- a fully functioning pre-War aircraft- the thing he had been fearing- loomed right there, the cab angled down at him, like it was a giant flying beast looking him in the eye.
He saw an open gunbay- and protruding from its side closer to his angle- there was an Enclave soldier, clad in the mysterious pattern of exo they wore in a standardized fashion. He was seated in a weapons console behind a blastshield- and when Sanford pieced together what the thing was- he almost wet himself.
That was a frikkin' 20' millimeter. This forklift was like tin-foil against that.
"SHIIITTT!" Sanford screamed- jumping to his feet.
CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK
-The autocannon barked, and rounds whistled all over the place- the forklift belched clouds of sparks and fiery smoke when tens of rounds punched clean through its chassis and kicked about the concrete.
Sanford rounded the side of a shipping container, and he heard the shrieking of the rounds punching through one side of the steel and rattling about.
He compressed the back of his armor to the container, breathing heavily- he looked down at his SMG and again, was shocked and appalled to its pee-shooter capability here.
He really should've packed his better guns for this adventure.
"SHIT!"
CLK-SSHHROW
-An autocannon round sliced right through the metal near his shoulder pauldron with a lick of sparks and scream of metal- it clattered away off the concrete and fell expended nearby with a hollow ringing.
"HAN'!" Sanford called into his helmet. "I'M PINNED!"
"DON'T WORRY, SIR! HANCOCK TO THE RESCUE!"
-The robot leaned out from the container he was behind, and propped his missile-launcher/flamethrower claw arm around the angular corner, aiming up at the Vertibird above.
"TAKE THIS YOU FLYING NAZIS!"
SHHSKM
-Hancock slipped back behind cover when a single missile barked out from the launcher's barrel, and sailed up into the air, leaving a sooty contrail in its wake.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Laslar advanced right down the middle- without any cover, raising his Tri-Archer for a man he had never before heard of that was running around in a relic from over two-hundred years ago.
The Wastelander was pretty fast for being in that suit- he sprinted clear across the court, ducked behind a forklift before Laslar could line a decent shot- the plasma ate into the vehicle ineffectively. The Superintendent cursed.
The roar of one of Vertibird 4's autocannons hollered right over his position- a wave of dislodged sparks and shranpnel burst out from the buggy that their target was hiding behind- the vehicle imploded with black soot billowing from its undersides in trailing arms for the air above.
"Exo user's breaking cover!" Laslar barked into his communications. "Luft! Get a bead on him!"
"We got him, sir. We'll flush him out with the autocan-" Vertibird 4's pilot sounded quite confident in his statement- but halfway through, the man's speech was cut with a low-sounding gasp, and Laslar heard the craft's engine modulators flare without warning. "Missile! Missile!"
whmwhmwhmwhmWHMWHMWHM
-Laslar instinctively ducked when the Vertibird made an atmospheric shriek. He looked up and saw Vertibird 4 haul backwards with its tail nearly pointing directly towards the ground.
The craft zoomed to its rear exponentially- and dangerously -fast, and right as it did so, a projectile that left a smokey trail in its wake, some kind of missile- sailed past the cockpit by a few inches, whistled across the air overhead, and vanished in an arc right over the quarry's upper level to the beyond.
Vertibird 4's pilot struggled to lower the craft's nose, the propellers screaming, modulators fluctuating- Laslar was afraid the pilot might crash it.
"Shit! Bank left!" -Now it was Vertibird 3's pilot barking into the communications.
Vertibird 3 swung sideways right as 4 rose up its tail and wavered its wings right in the spot its sister craft narrowly vacated.
"We're good, near miss!"
"Damn straight, near miss! Pull your head out of your ass!"
Laslar gave off an exasperated- 'Ugh' -and blink-activated the shutoff rune in his helmet's internal HUD for the communication link. He turned around, and saw that again, the Wastelander was sprinting towards the other end of the quarry- Laslar followed with his gaze, and saw why.
"Vertibird 2, you still sane?"
"Aye-aye sir."
"Nail that archway with a few warheads! Our exo' boy is trying to escape through it!"
"Affirmative."
-0-0-0-0-0-
Sanford was trying to make a break for the archway door again- the suit was whining and creaking all over the place- he was clenching his teeth, and he flinched everytime he heard another gunshot.
There were at least three or four people that were focusing fire on him- but he was too concerned about getting into the lift chamber of the quarry to hide behind something and attempt to face these soldiers head-on.
He wasn't properly armed for this- not with his little SMG, or his new bolt action, or even the Nukalizer- because he needed to get close to use that weapon.
wshh-CLK!
-"AGH!" Sanford felt a terrible punching sensation on the center back of his suit- there was a metallic sound, that Sanford could only describe as a wobbling noise, like if someone took a giant sheet of aluminum and flapped it in the air once.
He stumbled in his run, boots cracking the concrete- again, he was forced to direct his sprinting to the side- he found another buggy, and crouched behind it with a frustrated grunt. He wasn't exactly fond of this idea seeing what happened to the last one.
Sanford swallowed, and raised his helmet slightly over the cab's driver seat.
CLMCMM
-A blinding beam of red light met his vision for a millisecond. He ducked, and an arm of glowing crimson punched through the air right over his helmet's cranium, and spattered a burn mark and dust on the ground behind him.
Blinking at the stroke of luck- Sanford shivered, and magnetically clamped his SMG to his hip plating, reaching around the other side, and taking up the stock of the bolt action rifle he had snagged off the Mutant last night.
It was fully loaded- all he did was press the safety back.
"...Fuckin' snipers..." Sanford muttered. "I'll show you marksmanship."
One of the Vertibirds erupted in not autocannon fire- but a line of four, repeating, glowing red streams of laser fire that belched out from a quad of rounded cannons underneath its cockpit. They flew about an area not near Sanford's, and from his distance he could hear a reptilian sounding hiss- a LOUD one.
"...Bastards!" Sanford barked- he laid the bolt action's belly against the buggy's seat rim- compressed himself as low as possible, and aimed at the tiny, blackened figure standing dominantly in the light of the day, up all the way at the top of the crater he was trapped in.
Sanford squinted- sneered- and then pulled the trigger.
CLK
-The gun discharged once.
Little to Sanford's knowledge in any detail- Sergeant Luft had just lined up a shot with Sanford's eye lense on his helmet, and his finger was on his sniper rifle's trigger.
CLLINK
-Luft stood straight up when a terrible screech rattled his helmet, and his forehead was given a feeling of impact.
The Sergeant's eyes went wide with brief horror- for a good second he thought he had taken a bullet in the head, that had pierced the helmet- he gasped loudly, and the ground rumbled as the Power Armor indented the concrete beneath him- as Luft fell clean onto his backside.
He dropped his rifle, and when he realized that he was still breathing, and able to comprehend everything around him- he took solace that he hadn't actually been harmed in any meaningful way.
He looked down between his spread, armored ankles- and there on the ground was a flattened, golden round that had hit him squarely in the forehead. His helmet had saved his life.
-Back on the ground, Sanford didn't know nor care if he had actually killed the sniper- the likelihood was low that the guy was down for good with that Power Armor suit he and all his buddies were wearing. That meant he needed to keep running.
He tried something new as he parted from the buggy's flank- he clamped his bolt action back to his hip- pulled out the combat shotgun that he had recovered from the Mutants, and held it ready.
"SANFORD! SIR!" He glanced to his side, and saw Hancock by the large, treaded industrial crane a few feet away- he peered over the rounded rim of the right tread links. "IGUANA-CHOPS GOT SHOT AGAIN!"
"You have stims! Give 'em to her!"
"SIR! HOLY FRIJOLES! LOOK OUUUUTTTTT!"
-"Target sighted! Shoot him!"
Sanford fell back behind the forklift- and right after he did so, a batch of flourescent green wads slapped into the metal on the other side, and inside the cab- metal shrieked and then literally started to bubble into hardening orange distortions.
There were two Enclave soldiers wielding Plasma Rifles- they advanced on him without even considering getting into cover- because they knew if they hit Sanford a few times they could crack the plating.
CL-M
CL-M
CL-M
-Sanford looked up and saw three whitish veins drawing down the sky right overhead, like jet contrails.
The three missiles planted into the top of the concrete arch that he and his buddies had been moving for- and they imploded with a brief lick of flame, plumages of dust and dislodged rock chips. A piece of the archway cracked off, and loudly shattered into a million chunks all about the ground just before the ajar door.
Sanford couldn't even see detail in the doorway anymore for how much dust was everywhere- the Enclave were trying to trap them up here.
"HAN'! COVER ME!" Sanford barked.
"RIGHT-O!"
CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK
-Plasma fire now flew over Sanford's head from the OTHER direction. He heard the Enclave soldiers call out, and the ground rumbled as the two of them went onto their bellies in the suits- cracking the ground their cuirasses smacked into.
The Enclave soldiers started to aim their rifles up at the buggy again from down there- but Sanford had other plans.
Maybe he was really as fast as people had said he was- he did cover the distance awfully quick- he'd mull on it later, he supposed.
Fact was- Sanford rounded one side of the buggy, and stormed towards the prone soldiers with his shotgun leveled- legs arcing past each other in a sprint.
Sanford fired his gun- and sparks kicked out in a cloud of sorts, all over the helmet and shoulder pauldrons of the soldier on the left- he heard the man scream, and then, without any more time to fire, Sanford repeated an old trick of his.
He reared back his left boot- and kicked the Enclave soldier straight in the face as he made to throw himself to his feet.
CLLLM
-Metal groaned and something cracked. The soldier barked horribly- the earth rumbled when he fell onto his back, the colossal suit of armor noisily giving off the impression that a large piece of metal had fallen, and not a man.
Sanford pressed forwards- his knees rattled the ground on either side of the man's hips- Sanford raised a fist, and brought the gauntlet down right on his opponent's helm face.
CRKK
-The soldier's head snapped back to the ground roughly and quickly- like a ragdoll having its face slapped into a wall by an angry child. Electricity from the Tesla breakers in his modified knuckles coursed all across the cracked facial section of the headgear- the man shook and vibrated beneath him, and didn't offer further resistance- Sanford realized he had electrocuted him.
Seeing the fallen Enclave operative twitching with his arms half raised for him- Sanford sneered, and shoved the barrel of his shotgun into the neck joint of the suit- again, the man's head was jerked to the side- Sanford stuffed the barrel as far as it would go, and pulled the trigger.
CLK-sshhhSPPLSK
-A burst of crimson vomited in a geyser all around the shotgun's nose and in globular traces on all sides of the helmet's neck crease- the soldier obviously went completely still after that, and his gauntlets clattered still onto the concrete on either side of him.
Sanford grunted, and tore the gun free.
"Bastard..." Sanford observed the weird, insectoid-like make of the helmet for a moment.
Sighing, he went to stand.
CLM-CLM
-But someone tackled him from the right.
"-AGH!" Sanford heard concrete cracking and metal screeching- he was flat on his back, and on top of him, raising a strange bladed weapon over his head- was the other Enclave soldier he had shot in the damned face with the shotgun.
The blade that the soldier held had a motor- it roared loudly, like a chainsaw- and Sanford saw that the blade was alive with whirring teeth and a small trail of black smoke hissing from a power pack.
The soldier brought it down in a stabbing motion for the very area Sanford had used his shotgun on to kill the last foe- the neck joint.
"NNOOO!" Sanford barked- he grabbed the soldier's wrist, and soon the two of them were screaming- Sanford with both gauntlets around his one, and the Enclave soldier use both of his to force the revving chain blade downwards.
The weapon stayed in its place as neither party could completely overpower the other- Sanford eventually stopped his vocals, bunched up his legs, and then forced his ankles upwards.
CLM-CLM
-Both armored limbs clashed off the soldier's back and rear helmet- the man hollered, and Sanford used the momentum of his enemy tossing forwards for his face- he angled his body to the side, and the Enclave soldier fell next to him.
The earth shook violently- the soldier broke his fall with his forearm, and still held the chain weapon in a weaker grasp- trying to stab downwards again. Sanford didn't allow it- and his enemy was in such a precarious angle, that he reached up, and tore the blade free from the soldier's fingers.
CLM
-Sanford was on his heels, kicked the man right in the face. Mr. Tobs didn't even wait for it to be evident if the guy was still struggling- he bent down and jammed the still screaming chain weapon into the man's neck joint.
Sparks became drowned in cascading, darkened crimson- the Enclave man's screams bubbled away and his hands were soon clenching for his own throat instead of Sanford's. The body flailed for another minute before the chain blade stalled, and wetly bubbled as Sanford saw it vanish under the helmet to the hilt.
He tried to tug it free- couldn't -and tore away from the corpse with a rustling of steel. He stumbled back and picked up his shotgun.
"Wastelander!"
Sanford spun back towards the dead he had produced- and standing over them, was the largest, most imposing Enclave soldier he had seen thus far.
The man was garbed in some customized variant from the basic suits- there were generator towers along his shoulder pauldrons, and even on the back section of his cuirass, and Sanford could see a ghostly aura flickering in and out of perception around his body.
"...H-Hey, man..." Sanford mumbled. "How are ya'?"
"Where'd you get the suit, kid?" The soldier grumbled in a deep, rocky voice.
"...Found it."
"Hm. Fair enough."
-Then Laslar shot him.
CLKSCM
-A trio of armor-piercing Plasma ate right into Sanford's center cuirass.
CRRSK!
Steel shrieked, and Sanford stumbled back, leaving a swimming trail of green that bubbled from the breached plating of his armor.
++++WARNING++++
+++EXTERNAL COMPROMIZATION+++
++++WARNING++++
-Sanford felt an unbearable heat gathering near his physical chest inside the suit- he saw his HUD flickering with bouts of static, and the big Enclave soldier stood there observing gleefully.
"Nothing personal, kid."
"-F-FUCK YOU!"
"Ah-ha."
Laslar shot him again.
CRRSK!
CLSM
SSSSSSSSS
-Some pipe inside the suit broke, it hissed, and Sanford felt a terrible pain breach into his chest- it was like a frying pan was being hovered just above his skin.
"AAGH!" Sanford barked, backpeddling away from his attacker with more green energy trailing through the air from the melting breach on his suit's breast. "-AAH! AH-GOD-FUCK!"
"SANFORD!"
-The third voice cried out, and Superintendent Laslar's smile was shot right off his face, and he didn't even have time to react before he saw a towering, blindingly fast blur of scales and fangs appear in his vision.
Right before the finality- he laughed loudly.
"Been awhile, my subject!"
BMM
-The Deathclaw shoulder checked him right in the center of his cuirass.
Superintendent Laslar sailed a foot away, and vanished into the already bullet-riddled hull of a forklift buggy- that indented right down the middle, and burst into a small mushroom cloud of fiery soot with a deafening blast.
Sanford was still trying to steady himself, and he was still cursing in pain- he felt a shove, and glanced up from where he had been examining his damaged armor in horror.
The Deathclaw stood there- yellow eyes wide, claws over his shoulder pauldrons- he looked down and saw three blackened, cautorized gashes going down her ribs on her right side, the scales gray, black and dead.
"-O-Oh shit-!"
"No time, monsieur'! RUN!"
The two of them staggered back towards the still standing, damaged archway to the quarry's lift chamber.
"SIR! IGUANA-CHOPS! KEEP SPRINTING!" Hancock called over- he had flown inside the archway- and Plasma shots passed the two of them as he pinned another cluster of six or seven Enclave soldiers that rounded the side of a shipping container.
Sanford heard one of the Vertibird crews firing an autocannon- he saw Hancock fly to cover behind the concrete of the arch right as he and the Deathclaw passed underneath it, and a cluster of laser shots from above hammered into the ground in their wake.
"-SHUT THE DOOR!" Sanford screamed.
Hancock flew over to the un-hinged end of the entry- ignoring a round that grazed completely through the side of his chassis, and left a stringing, thin trench of sparking darkness.
Together, he clenched his claw, and Sanford wrapped his fingers- they shoved the door with a giant creak of metal- and the industrial sized entry swung in a motion for closing- more autocannon rounds punching into the steel of its layered plates.
CLMCK
-The door kicked dust everywhere from all the concrete around it- and it was horribly loud echoing through the large chamber behind them. If it weren't for their night-vision filters- they wouldn't have been able to see in the dark of the chamber when daylight was abruptly cut off.
"We need to seal it!" Sanford shouted- gritting his teeth still from the burning pain in his chest. "Use your Plasma!"
"On it, sir!"
Hancock sprayed the hinges with a few concentrated bursts of green blobs- they smacked about, and Sanford could already hear the sizzling of melting metal.
He stood still, heaving heavily- and for the first time in the scene, there was a resounding quiet- disturbed only by the distant howls of Vertibird engines.
Sanford quaked in place, and Hancock looked with uncertainty at him, and then back at the door.
...Nothing.
No shouts. No gunfire.
Nothing.
"...OhthankGod..." Sanford collapsed on his backside with a rumbling echo- he leaned his head back and breathed out with a blast of air.
"...I think we got away, sir." Hancock said factually after a moment.
"Yeah... Yeah I think so..."
"...Monsieur'... Help..."
"Wha'? SHIT! HAN'! GET OVER HERE!"
She was knelt over, and she had a claw wrapped over the cauterized burns on her ribs- there were two new ones across her center back, between the shoulders- she'd been hit when they got in the doorframe.
Sanford clambered to his feet, and rushed over despite whirring protests from his suit, and flaring pain from his chest. He hung over her back, and put his gauntlets near the newer wounds to examine them- he made a panicked sound, and dug into the rucksack over his thigh.
Hancock zoomed over, and had a stimulation injection clasped in his claw- he handed it to Sanford, who took it with a tiny- 'Thanks' -flicked off the cap cover, and slowly stuck the needle inbetween the two blackened wounds.
She made a hissing sound, and he waited until the injection ran dry, before he took it out, threw it away, and took another offered from Hancock's claw.
"-Do you feel lightheaded? Weak? Can you not move anything?" Sanford rambled to her. "Tell me!"
"...Hurts like... HELL, monsieur'... AH!"
"Sorry!"
He took out the last needle, and waited shortly until he saw some of the black scales start to become loose on her- like flaking skin. That meant the stims were working. Good.
"Hey, hey-" Sanford wheeled around to her front, where saw her face contorted in pain- she un-gripped her ribs, and put a palm over his pauldron- CLM - "-Tell me what else is wrong, c'mon."
"Flesh wound." She said through gritted fangs. "Damned, FLESH WOUND."
"Okay-okay, just don't move... Give the stims a minute."
"Yes, monsieur'..."
"Oh my God, I-I'm so sorry- I-"
"...We should've taken the lift... I'm sorry."
"You couldn't have known!"
"...Still..."
"No-no, just... No... It's not your-AGH!"
"...Monsieur'?"
"-HM-Nothing."
"...You're hurt too. Usiner'... USINER'."
"Wha-?! San' of the -ford is hurt?! BOJANGLES! NOT COOL!" Hancock flew over and handed him another stim, to which Sanford shook his head- and stepped away from the two of them.
The suit parted open, making a sickly creak- Sanford stumbled out from behind it, his combat plate breast piece burned right across its middle- the ceramics malformed and the paint melted away.
Hancock was over in an instant- he tore off the armor, dropped it to the side, and examined Sanford's shirt right underneath it with his ocu-lenses.
"Bad burn. Second degree, partial." The robot reported as Sanford took the stim injection from him, and stuck it in his arm, wincing at the pinch.
"...God damn it..." He looked down and followed Hancock's gaze- and there on his chest was a branching red, and moist-appearing wound that was littered with blisters already. "...Ugh..."
"Monsieur'?" The Deathclaw gasped- on her feet, and shouldering past Hancock- Sanford looked at her with a raised brow.
"...I thought you were keeled over, tootse?"
"I'll live." She said, sniffing towards the burn on his chest. "Oh, Sanford..."
"It's fine, I've gotten worse..."
"He's gotten worse!" -Hancock added.
"-It just hurts like a bitch..."
"I know the feeling, monsieur'."
"How are you holding up, Han'?"
"Nothing critical. Glanced by a 20'." Hancock reported.
"And there's NOTHING critical?" Sanford asked, shocked.
"Nope! The Han' lives! The Sanford lives! NEUT-NUGGETS LIVES! HOO-RAH!" Hancock cried out triumphantly, only to have his two companions glare. "-So, we're plotting revenge now, right? NO ONE SHOOTS THE TEAM OF DESTRUCTION AND LIVES TO BRAG ABOUT IT!"
"...Are you okay?" Sanford reached up and rubbed his hands over both of her knuckles as she gripped his shoulders.
"Fine." She grumbled.
"That was close."
"Too close, mon ami'."
"...Well, the good news is, we at least know we can fight them. We just need better-"
CLM
clmclcmlcmlcmlcmclcmlcmlcmlcmlcm
-They all turned around, and Hancock aimed his Plasma gun at the echoing mechanics coming from the pit drop behind them.
The empty lift clattered still, and waited for them once more, menacingly.
-0-0-0-0-0-