Blue eyes stared down at the work table with intent, focusing on her favorite weapon; her pipe rifle. One might be confused as to why she loves her rifle so and the reason is customization; any and all parts. Her finger less gloved hands felt up every curve and surface trying to see what else could be done to it. She reached over to the right of her and pulled out a polished pipe with port holes at the tip and was placed by the rifle. Sand paper traveled along the body and grip of the gun, roughly scraping it into something more appealing. Five bullets found their places in slots attached to the body by the selector switch he had installed to make it select fire. Problem was it only worked half the time. So either it stays full auto for a good while or it stays in single fire for a good while. Sparks scratched her head and tried to figure out which mode it’s stuck in now but didn’t want to go up and shoot in the air attracting ferals. She guessed it didn’t matter too much because she wasn’t in immediate danger. It’s not like there was going to be a shootout right outside her home. Her baby is growing up right in front of her eyes. Her hands interlocked and bridged, popping them all in the process. It was almost complete and ready to use.
Now it felt much smoother and user friendly than before. Tape was tightly wrapped around the wooden angled handle until it felt snug. Wood was used mainly because it can be tooled, marked, taped and drilled into adding anything else she thinks of. She can form it to her hand and no one else’s if she so desires; making it harder to kill her with her own weapon. Plus it can be easier to repair. If it by chance break or snap then maybe she’d switch to metal. The recoil controller is metal with a spring wrapped around it attached to a padded butt with black taped to hold it all together. Now that the wood was smoothed out she took apart the rifle simple piece by simple piece and yanked one of her bandannas out of her pocket and engulfed the parts, cleaning them in the process. Oil was applied piece by piece until satisfaction. With all the pieces cleaned and oiled the radio was turned a little higher while she hummed and fit the pieces in correctly, constructing the rifle once more. Sparks wrapped her hands around the current barrel, scuffed, scratched and dinged to all hell and slid it out to be placed in her scrap pile. Then the new longer and polished barrel was locked in place, the rifle looking more and more respectable. A small scope was laid next to it and was going to be screwed on, but she decided against it and eventually stored it in her pack. Now the magazines were next; a clamp was snapped onto one side a full magazine and the other was snapped on the side of a second mag that was being filled with ammo. A knife popped out from under her wrist and tore into cloth which was wrapped around the barrel to shield it from glare. Retracting the blade, her fingers tugged at another knife and put it in its place and close the clamp encasing it. What she loved about the bayonet was that it doubles as a standalone knife. All she has to do is unclamp it. Most aspects of her rifle have two or more different uses. Mind of a tinkerer, she supposed. Finally, she cleaned the trigger guard and now her baby was ready to take on the world. This whole contraption was built by and for her, every detail designed with her in mind and no one else. The other weapon she relies on was her grandfather’s laser pistol which only had a photon agitator and a comfort grip. Her other contraptions could wait for later times. She has all day after all. Despite her age and size, she is a mean little pl*ps with all her toys and gear.
Meanwhile outside, Jack and the group made their way closer to Lexington and the Red Rocket station residing in a town filled with ferals as well as the Corvega Assembly Plant being chalked full of hoped up and pissed off raiders.
"We're a long way from any settlements kid. It's dangerous and uncomfortable for people to settle down without an established town to go to. The only people who stay out here willingly and survive with any comfort are gangs of raiders and this truck stop could very well be one of their hideouts. We're gonna have to bust this door down and clear the area the old fashioned way."
"Hold on a second." She said, stopping him before he could blow the knob off. "If someone really lives here we can't just bust their door down. For they know we're the raiders. Let's try something a bit more subtle."
Courtney reached under her hat and into her hair and pulled her bobby pin out, her water-falling down and draping over her shoulders and put her hat back on as she bent the bobby pin and retrieved a screwdriver out of her pack and began to put her skills she learned in the survival training she had learned during her time in the service.
"...Come on, just a little to the left...that's it..." The lock opened with a satisfied click, making Courtney nod in approval. "There we go." The doorknob gave a turn of compliance but she didn't quite open it all the way. Just to the point past the deadbolt so she could push it open.
"We're in, but I recommend we send in someone to scout the area and see what we're really dealing with first. Any of you guys feel like a little snooping around?"
"I DO IT MISS COURTNEY!" Brutus yelled. Jackel ran beside him and was jumping up and down while making a sound that almost sounded like barking. Clearly he was enthusiastic about going in there.
"Well, it looks like we've got two volunteers and I honestly think they'd be best suited for this. Jack? Rufus? You've got any objections?"
"I suppose not, so long as we're right behind them. I don't know Jackel here well enough to really trust him and, well, you've seen Brutus. He's a little trigger happy."
"YOU MEAN I NOT GET TO SHOOT THINGS BOSS?!"
"Only if they or I shoot first pal. You know about that rule."
"YOU'RE RIGHT. SORRY BOSS."
"That's okay. No harm done yet. Rufus? You got any problems with this?" With Rufus agreeing the two non-humans made their way into the station while being weary of what may pop out and kill them, which could be anything at this point; A fellow brethren of Jackal or maybe just a raider. One can never be too careful out in the wastes. What they also didn’t know was that a bunch of scared and fresh Brotherhood Of Steel initiates who are on their first patrol and always have kill orders out on non-humans. As the two mutants enter the station slowly, the ferals above them were getting antsy due to all the noise and movements that were happening while the squad down below were talking and turning their head at every sound. Slowly the feral group made their way down towards the station and caught sight of a giant green monster as well as Jackal, who was their brethren. The ghoul ran as fast as it could before tripping a pneumatic trap that released sharpened metal needles, getting the ghoul in the head and sticking to the wall like a picture. All the commotion above could be heard from below, distracting Sparks away from her work with a growl before hearing not just one ghoul but multiple outside followed by a loud grunt and gunfire from a massive being. The chair was gently pushed to the side as she got up and limped to her legs and gloves. She hooked her harness to the chains as she snapped and locked her legs in place, pumping air in them while she checks if everything is in working order.
The remaining ghouls ran frantically toward the commotion, crashing out of windows and either running towards the commotion or crawling. This made the initiates begin to rapidly fire their laser rifles while Brutus fired on the ghouls running for him. One lone ghoul stepping on one trap started a chain reaction that was not going to end well for more than one party. While the surface was turning into a skirmish the girl at the bottom slipped her gloves on and grabbed her weapons while securing her tool belt on her legs and going up to the surface while the all three groups engaged each other.
“Damn it, I hate ghouls!” She popped six rounds, three for both ghouls by her before she was spotted by this new group, who now had their guns aimed at her just as she had hers aimed at them, creating a standoff all the while the initiates were firing at the ghouls buying the two new groups time to point their weapons at each other while they throw questions back in forth.
“Nice! You not only drew the damn ferals out and the god damn BoS out, you drew them TO MY HOME! You know, the only place I have!” Before she could vent even further the sound of laser rifles got closer and closer. By the time the home wreckers cleared out the area around her station, they met arms with the Initiates who were in front and behind them, using what they had just learned. As the initiates closed in, Jack and Brutus made a run for it seeing as how they were closest to the other door, leaving the group behind.
The group was then rounded up as well as confiscated their weapons, which made Sparks that much more irritated. When a cocky initiate went up to Sparks grabbing for her metal legs, she smirked and yawned, testing the stones and patience of the whelps.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. What if you pressed the wrong button or pulled the wrong wire? We all could be blown up sky high. I doubt you want that since you just joined Electronic Hoarders Anonymous. I mean, you could try but you may also lose a hand. But here, have my gloves. That way your overlords will be happy.” She slipped the safety lock on subtly, making sure they can’t get in it until she figures out a way to get out of their soon to be confinements.
It had been some time before Paz and her squad had made it to Four Leaf to clear it out for another pile of caps, which is exactly what she needs; caps and death. All they had to do was clear it out, simple as that; In and out with minimal damage and maximum carnage. Will it go as planned? Only time will tell. The door opened with a noise, light hitting every dark corner for only a minute lighting it up before going back to holes and slats of sunlight brightening the building.
“Alright boys, let’s get to work. The intel says that the greenies were taken out by raiders and raiders alone. If that is the case then we have some hardcore fl*ffin’ killers in here with us so be on your guard. Luckily we’re the baddest killers of them all but no need to get too cocky." Footsteps echoed off old grey machines just as their reflections were smeared from the dust. Green eyes snapped at the tables and conveyor belt, noticing outlines from the guns and hands of the raiders. Where did the fighting actually take place? Was it further in or was there no fighting at all? Whatever the case was she had to push on and see to it that the location was cleared of any hostiles.
“Let’s check deeper. The aftermath must be hidden from first glance; which is smart considering. If you see any raiders feel free to engage.” Each person checked their respected firearms and continued on into strangely empty plant. Time when this was for fish was long gone, now it’s one of the many hideouts for one of many things that would kill you. Personally, she wouldn’t have it any other way. No standing law outside of Diamond City, if someone steals from you steal it back or shoot them, if someone threatened you, beat them, if someone tries to kill you, shoot them dead. Pretty damn simple in her mind. No grey area to muddle the image. After all, this is how she makes a living. If this was a time of laws then she’d be dead and under or in solitary. Luckily for her, that will never be the case. She can kill as many people as she damn well pleases. Lost in thought, she didn’t realize what she had just step in; a rope tied from a beam with a counter weight made from the shell of a machine. It tugged and constricted her leg and for a split second it donned on her.
“IT’S A TRAP GOD DAMN IT!”
She tried to reach for her Ringer but instead it slipped out of her holster. Now her hand gripped the 10mm pistol, saving her .45 for back up. Her body violently jerked upwards while shot after shot was expelled the higher she went. Everyone else planted behind cover and began to engage, lighting the place up with hellfire and sinking holes in various surfaces which Paz was surrounded by. The screams of the Irish merc was drowned by gunshots.
If she wanted down she needed to shoot the counter wait and hope to hell she wasn’t going to get shot while she let her guard down. Three shots were planted in a raider while another was sunk into the lock on the counter weight hitting it but not breaking it. Now the assholes shooting at them focused on her, missing her each time and peppering the wall adjacent to her. Like a pendulum she began to swing back and forth until she coiled up and hooked an arm around the chain to steady her while she took shots at the lock finally setting her free with a loud bang and large gust of dust. Her feet frantically pushed across the floor as she hammered the trigger down range.
How the fl*ff did they know? Was there a traitor in the midst? Was this their comms tapped? Raiders don’t know how to do recon let alone the concept. The real culprits who tapped them are sure to be better armed and trained. The question was when and if they are going to show up? The chill of the machine on her bare skin comforted her in the firefight.
Now all she needed was her sawed off, which was dead in the middle of a killzone. Even being trained and skilled, it was a suicide move. The thought of them being ambushed boils her blood due to her always dropping a trap, not the other way around. Paz’s ears began to twitch at the sound of the clips falling on the ground and chatter amongst the group. She calmly counted the number of dropped clips and wait for a moment before popping out and reaching for her shotgun.
“Why don’t we settle this over some drink, boyos. I promise I won’t bore your fluffin’ heads in.” an excited laugh came out of her lips as she shot blindly emptying the clip on the floor in exchange for a fresh one.
"Not a chance, Gunner. You are fluffed and you know it. You’re out numbered and I doubt one of you little stupid pricks can take us all out.”
“You don’t reckon so? How about we test that theory?” But before she could make a move the sounds of laser rifles came from behind the raiders who were fighting the new threat giving them time to move up. They hauled ass towards the bastards shooting them and fired upon the combatants. It was a blood bath; Flashes of red beams and lead filled the air as the warriors screaming over the gunfire in their tongue. These raiders were simply wiped out now that they didn’t have an upper hand. Now with them dead and gone her squad focused on the team. One by one her team was dropped. For just a moment she froze as she saw the outline of the enemy. Nothing around her mattered, no bullets or rouge beams, oh no. What mattered was who was sending those beams down wind. As they fired and held their ground the opposition was nearing closer, their grouping getting tighter. It wasn’t look good for them; men down, ammo running out and now this. As she turned to her right she realized she was the only one. As she popped up she froze for a moment when she saw who it was.
“Brotherhood Of Steel...” was uttered through gritted teeth as hands slipped her pistol back in its holster then gripped at her knives. She jumped ran to the side and scurried to the right and left and she stuck the lightly armored knight in the belly withdrawing and lounging towards the next. With a spin she deflected the gun away from her and sank her blade into the neck of the enemy. Having two less combatants on the field made her chances of surviving from nil to slim. A lost and pl*ps eating grin crept on her face before being twerked and pulled up by the face, a steel hand wrapping around it. The hand tightened around her skull, slowly condensing it before being thrown back creating a loud noise and a big dent in the wall. Struggling, Paz got up with a bloodied smile as she twirled her knives around.
“You’re going to have to make sure I’m dead.” A laugh could be heard through the in helmet voice comm before the Paladin signaled the scribe to fire, burning a clean hole in her leg, making her cry out in pain and buckle to the floor. What little blood that didn’t burn pooled under her.
“Drop your weapons. You’re finished.”
“I’ll fluffing drop them alright, you twat.” She chucked one knife at the scribe and the other at the Paladin as a distraction before trying to send as many bullets at them as possible. Only dents were left in the armor as the T-60 clad soldier as the scribe was hit in the shoulder. Then the Paladin marched over to her and picked her up by her throat causing blood to cover his hand.
“How about I snap your neck like a rat? You’re not even worth the effort.”
“Do it then, jackboot. You know you want to. Your master won’t be too happy about it though.” The smile turned into a scream as she felt a second hole go through her leg.
“Damn it we need her to walk! If anyone fires I will personally discharge you with a shot to the belly. The man’s helmet turned as she cackled with joy, almost in an inhuman tone.
“You don’t fluffing get it, do you tin man? You pisspots have no idea who the fluff I am! I don’t give two plopss what you’re going to do to me. Hurry up and act important instead of dying in my Mojave.” More blood covered the man’s hand and helmet as he withdrew his hand from her stomach, breaking a rib upon impact.
“For you, little rat. I’d rather wing you here and make you crawl out with your hands. Unfortunately I can’t. We know who you are and that is the only reason you are still breathing. Move out team, we’re done here. Let’s head to the RZ and make this piss poor deal.”
