A middle aged woman approaches the group, a gold star on her chest and a revolver at her hip. "That would be me son," she says. "Alright, me and the guards will take it from here. We'll get them nice and locked up at the jail, then I think I'd like to have a word with you lot. I have somethin' that might interest you." She gestures and the guards quickly round up the last handful of raiders and get them moving off into town.
Nilus nods at a job well done.
Well struck Zeke. Even if it didn't start out all that well... he says to his companion.
Zeke clambers down from the vehicle and wipes his sword clean on an oiled rag from one of his jacket pockets. Once he reaches his pack, he slides the weapon away and shoulders the bag. "True," he responds to Nilus. "I'd prefer they'd surrendered without a fight, and it's a shame some of us were hit. But we settled it before there was too much damage done."
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"Hey Sheriff, before you leave! Whatcha 'bout the sweet rides? That Big H is calling me,and I wanna answer. But the law here maybe frowns upon "spoils of war"." says Max with a smile before turning to Zeke "Sir, I hafta apologize. I called you oldie, but now I know you are truly a warrior of justice... and I believe we met before, isn't it?"
The sheriff motions of the guards to take the raiders away and turns back to Max. "Well... usually we don't have a lot of help with this kind of thing. How about... half? You lot are welcome to half of the spoils and we'll pay fair price for anything from your half that you don't want. The other half goes either to the town armory or to the town motor pool."
Aaron walks over to the armored car, having seen Richie blast it with an electromagnetic burst. He opens the hood of the vehicle as smoke pours out from the engine block; he steps back, coughing. "This'll need fixing, but I should be able to handle that. I might need some parts, though..." He nods to the other syker, not saying much before continuing to inspect the car. As he crouches to look at the underside of the vehicle, he sighs. "The fact that they could fix up this kind of ride is troubling, though."
"That sounds fair to me." Richie pipes up with a smile. He looks over at Aaron as he gets a face full of smoke. He wasn't sure what he'd take from the whole thing but he was sure he'd find something he could put to good use, just probably not literally; he was much better at breaking tech than using it. Still he could worry about that later.
He casts his gaze around the bullet ridden area thanks to the lunatic bosses wild fire and raises his voice. "Is everyone okay?" he was feeling a bit warn out from the blast it had taken to KO the humvee, but he could rest later.
Jane begins collecting spent shells from around the area. "Don't ya'll worry none. I'll share. Just don't want them wanderin' off."
The party has first pick of the loot from the raiders. They manage to collect quite a lot of loot from the bandits.
3 Hunting Rifles
1 Colt Peacemaker
5 knives
various makeshift melee weapons (baseball bats, pipes, etc.)
176 9mm rounds
31 .30 rifle rounds
12 .45 rounds
various pieces of makeshift armor (basically Improvised Armor for any body part you want)
12 motorcycles
1 HMMWV (engine is pretty thoroughly fried) with a mounted NA SAW (loaded with all remaining ammo)
Zeke turns to Max, and now that the facade is all but shattered, he nods. As he adjusts the pack's set on his shoulders, he unclasps one of the jacket's few buckles and it falls open, revealing the white tabard emblazoned with red cross underneath. "I believe we did, Max. And in similar circumstances, if memory serves. I see you're still up to your old tricks."
As the cyborg moves to inspect the Hummer, Zeke approaches the sheriff. "Sheriff, what sort of revenge might you get for this, if any? Is this the whole gang, or do they have friends?" He slings his pack down to his elbow for a moment, pulls out the bottle, and then shifts it back. "I'd hate to think we just caused you folks more trouble."
The sheriff shrugs. "Honestly, I'm not sure. There's at least twice this many of them left, but without their leader, they'll probably fight among themselves to decide who's in charge next. I'm more worried about whoever managed to get this thing working. I know none of them are smart enough to fix a military vehicle."
Nilus begins flipping through the pages of his Flashman book, eager to reconnect with the Book spirits.
Zeke, I think we should do something about them. he says
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With the sight of the cross and Nilus mention of the templar's name Max finally remembers "Zeke! Zeke Fightmaster! Damn, how can I be so oblivious? Always a pleasure to fight by your side, and Nilus is right. If there are more of this scum we better hit them while they lack leadership. The HMMWV and a few bikes would really help if Mr. Glowy eyes and me can fix 'em."
Richie watches Max and the other fighters-including a templar it seemed, he was a little nervous about that, he'd not met one before-for a few moments before heading over to the stranger who had joined them and cast flames at the humvee, it... hadn't really done much, but it had certainly been impressive. "Was that magic you used? Never met a warlock before." he asks, curiosity evident.
The sheriff looks over the group and seems to come to a decision. "Hmmm, would you lot be interested in a little work? You're definitely competent and can handle yourselves in a fight and we can't spare any guards right now. But we need someone to clean out the rest of the Gearheads and to find out how they managed to get their hands on this thing."
Sounds like the right thing to do. Will we have powers of arrest? Are we deputized? Nilus asks
"Hmm... that's the kind of work I'm fine with doing." Aaron backs up from the engine block, nodding at Max. "Sure, I could use the help. This thing is fried, plain and simple. But if we can get it up and running, it'll be a boon to us when we ride out after those raiders. Also, the name's Aaron." He looks to the rest of the group, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know about the rest of you, but it seems a good plan to deal with these degenerates before they cause any more trouble. I don't have any need for a bike--I can drive the HMMWV--but I'll make no complaints about selling the thing."
"I think we should too," Zeke says, nodding at his younger companion's words. "But dammit, Nilus, stop worrying about 'powers of arrest' and 'deputization' and 'Miranda rights.' The waste ain't the world we used to live in, and you can't always go by the book. Sometimes it's up to us to just lay down the law the best we can." He sighs and takes off his sunglasses, folding them and sliding them back into a jacket pocket. "What do you know about these 'Gearheads,' ma'am?"
He turns his eye to gaze sidelong at the rest of the party. "And if we're doing introductions, in case you didn't hear, name's Zeke."
"Richard Jean, but call me Richie. I'm all up for dealing with trouble-makers, though I'll need a little time to recharge. Taking out that beast really drained the batteries." the scaley boy says cheerfully. "Hmm... Sherrif, how about we take the hummer and some ammo, and then trade the rest of our share to the motor lodge for parts to fix up the beast? I'm no good with tech."
"Jane. Jane Cotton, and I'm good for it."
I. Uh. Yes, Zeke. Nilus responds to the older man and then
I'm Nilus. I've been helping Zeke. Nilus offers, a little abashed at being dressed down by Zeke.
The sheriff shrugs. "Well, my authority goes about as far as you can see from the top of the guard tower. If you bring back any survivors, I can lock them up with their buddies, but that's about all I can do."
She glances at Zeke. "They're confident, but not all that smart. They like to throw their weight around and cause problems, but they're really not all that good. Their boss was decent, but as you can see, he's taken care of. We always figured that they were more a nuisance than an outright threat, but I guess that was a bad idea."
She looks over at the mutant and nods. "That's fair enough. Wouldn't quite be worth everything you're not taking though. I can make up the difference in supplies though. Ammo types that aren't among the take, spook juice, and food and water."
"Sounds good to me." Richie says happily, looking at the others.
"Ammo probably isn't a bad idea either, truth be told." Aaron pats the HMMWV on the hood, turning to the sheriff. "Some extra ammunition would be a big help, especially for that machine gun if you have it. Other than that, parts to fix the car and some food and water sounds good to me." As Max chimes in, Aaron nods. "Yeah, fuel too. We could siphon some off from the bikes too, I guess. I don't know what ammunition the rest of them need, but I'd settle for some 10mm myself; I don't use the pistol much, and there's some for that in the take."
Aaron glances at Zeke, eyeing the Templar emblem on his chest. 'He didn't even notice... I must be getting better at this. Maybe I can outrun the Combine after all.'
The guards return after a few minutes and begin carting off most of the bikes and the weapons. The sheriff seems to be counting everything and making notes on a piece of paper. Once everything is taken care of, she nods. "Alright then. I'll gather everything that you need and bring it down. And I'll send Piero to bring out some of his junk to replace the electrical parts in the humvee." She brings down the party's ammunition, supplies, and some of the mechanical parts for the jeep and heads off to take care of the newly captured gangers.
The soldier watches as the sheriff heads off and then he laughs. "I haven't had a good fight like that in ages," he says. "And I haven't fought with a good team in even longer. I'd love to come with you, but I think this town could use someone to keep an eye on things while you're out hunting road gangers." He offers a hand to Aaron. "Brannock McCullock."
Shortly afterward, an elderly Hispanic man approaches the party. His hair is graying and unkempt and he has glasses that seems somewhere between glasses and goggles on his face. "Oh, yes, yes, how interesting." He slings a bag over his shoulder and sets it down near the humvee. "Haven't worked military in ages. Let's see... My my, that scaly fellow's sorcery really did a number on the alternator. And it will need a new spark plug..." He trails off mumbling and starts digging through his sack for supplies. "Come on youngsters! Let's get this masterpiece running again!"
Richie nods in thanks as he takes the small sack of bullets, adding it to his bag for future trade. He turns to Brannock as the soldier introduces himself.He glances at the hispanic as he lifts the Hummer's hood and takes a step back. "Heh, I'm not good at fixing things, only breaking them unfortunately." he says with a chagrined smile.
He turns back to Brannock then, walking a little closer. [color=Green]"So what was that fire you used? Are you a warlock?"[/color]
"How would you? I doubt there's much of it left." Aaron steps aside so that both Max and the older man can look at the engine with him, before digging into the engine block himself. "I'm guessing you're the town mechanic, then? I'm Aaron... it's good to meet you. I've mostly worked on trucks; the people I used to work for didn't have much else, at least not that they allowed me to touch." Aaron shakes his head, pulling loose a couple of fried cables. "You're right about one thing; Richie's magic really fried this thing."
"What? Oh, sort of," the man says. "I'm Professor Piero. People pay me to maintain their vehicles sometimes, and I make the town's supply of spook juice, but I'm more of a tinkerer really. I've been working on a plasma cannon recently, but I'm still working out the bugs. Still, it's good to work on something top of the line every once in a while." He leans over the engine block and frowns. "Most of the engine block is still good. The mechanicals at least. The electrical parts are mostly ruined." He demonstrates by touching a wire, which disintegrates immediately. "We'll have to replace the most of them, but then we should be able to get it running again."
Jane picks up a wrench and begins working.
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Nilus watches them work, all this talk of Turbopistols and Plasma whatchimacallits is way over his young head.
Richie nods in thanks as he takes the small sack of bullets, adding it to his bag for future trade. He turns to Brannock as the soldier introduces himself.He glances at the hispanic as he lifts the Hummer's hood and takes a step back. "Heh, I'm not good at fixing things, only breaking them unfortunately." he says with a chagrined smile.
He turns back to Brannock then, walking a little closer. "So what was that fire you used? Are you a warlock?"
Brannock laughs and shakes his head. "Not in any way like you are," he says. "I suppose I could have introduced myself as Master Sergeant Brannock J. McCullock of the Union Army Special Syker Corps, but it doesn't roll of the tongue quite as well and an army rank doesn't mean much nowadays. I was one of the North's battlefield blasters during the last war."
Over next to the humvee, the doctor strokes his chin. "Hmmm, pity you don't have a techno-shaman who could help hold this together. It would save us the trouble of having to find all the special parts. And I know a nice jeep spirit that would kill to get to run something like this."
"Syker Corps? Really?" Aaron's head perks up, turning towards the other psychic. "My father fought with them before the bombs fell... he died a few years ago. I don't know that I've ever met anyone else who worked with them, other than him." Aaron stands up from vehicle, extending a hand towards the other man. "I'm Private Aaron... well, I guess it's just Aaron Nikhols, now."
"Ohhh! A syker, cool." he says with a grin, looking at Aaron with his mouth hanging open. "Wow, first time I meet one of you guys and there's two of you." he says with a chuckle.
McCullock offers a hand to Aaron. "Really? What unit was he with? I might have met him before. There weren't exactly a lot of us left running around on Earth after the Banshee Expeditionary Legion was sent out."
"51st Infantry Division of the Special Syker Corps, if I remember correctly." Aaron shakes the man's hand, before unslinging his rifle from his neck. "I used to live in a small town, maybe three or four days from here... we helped protect it. He was killed, and I was... conscripted." Aaron's face forms into a scowl, before he sighs. "What brings you here, then? I know the place produces a lot of Red, but... well, I didn't expect to find someone like you here."
The doctor shrugs. "All things considered, I can't blame you for that," he says. "Don't worry, we'll make do."
McCullock grins. "Hmmmm, don't know if I ever actually met your dad, but I was with the 47th and we fought with your dad's team on the Texan front after the Confederacy declared war on the LatAm Alliance." He chuckles. "This place is the only one from here to Mississippi that produces enough Red to actually call it a product. And not everyone made it out to Banshee where they grow the stuff every ten feet. Let's say I'm curious if the stuff lives up to the hype."
Richie listens to the conversation with a faint smile, though most of what was being said went over his head. Still, it was pretty interesting!
"I've... never tried it either, actually. Normally I wouldn't bother, but, well, I figure I need every edge I can get." Aaron gestures to the hat, then the rifle at his side. "The Combine doesn't take kindly to defectors, especially considering how few of us manage to do it; if this stuff'll make it easier for me to give them the slip, or fight them off, I figured it was worth a shot."
Aaron turns back to Max and the local mechanic for a moment. "I'd agree, as much of a pain as it might be, I'd rather fix it up right." After a second, he turns again to McCullock. "His name was Sergeant Marcus Nikhols, I don't know if that'd ring a bell or not. I remember him telling me about that, though. I was young when the bombs dropped but... well, I wasn't so young I don't remember what it was like before."
Nilus listens alertly, he is always interested in how the world was "before".
"Yeah, I've heard the stuff gives you a real jolt. Pity it's so hard to grow. Banshee plants do weird sh*t on Earth." He frowns, clearly mulling over the name in his head. "Don't recognize the name, but I didn't meet everyone in the unit face to face. We spent a lot more time lobbing brain bombs at the Southerners than we did gettin' to know each other."
"Yeah, that's... that's what he told me, too. I heard about it from some of the Green hats in the Combine, but they didn't know I was a Syker, so I never got to try it. But if any of them have it, seems prudent I try to do the same." Aaron watches with curiosity as he watches Max down a can of oil, and while he doesn't ask the question is written on his face. "We can probably leave, I suspect the car can handle it. Let's track those bastards down, see how they managed to get their hands on it?"
Zeke stands by while the others go to work on the Hummer, listening to the conversation but not feeling any need to give much input. The fact it drifts to Pre-War times is good for Nilus, as far as Zeke figures, and the fact his new companions are so willing to divulge information about themselves is only more helpful. He takes a couple pulls from his bottle--which he asks to be topped off again as part of the supplies deal--and polishes his sword while he waits.
Once things are up and running, he slings his pack on and cracks his fingers. "Ready when you are. Nilus, you wanna ride with Max? He's good people, and he's got a lotta ideals about justice you'd like." The Templar tosses a wink with his good eye at the cyborg, and pats his shotgun to double-check that it's strapped on and secure as he makes for one of the other motorcycles.