Make sure I don't die, alright?
Get that guy out of the battlesuit and into the hover. Get ready to go.
Someone check those guys for guns, ammo and dog tags!
((Good to have you back Dwarmin.))
You approach the downed battlesuit. It doesn't seem to have any insignia on it, except for a few warning labels in English and Japanese. You fumble for a second before finding the quick-release button tucked away into a panel on the left arm. The battlesuit falls away in pieces, and you're presented with a conundrum: you can certainly say that the person on the inside is rather well-made, but you can't tell their gender at all: they have a delicate jawline, no facial hair, a body curve that is pleasant but ambiguous, and their chest is completely flat. The beauty of it all seems slightly off: as if it was artificially produced.
You shrug and load the unconscious whatever-it-is into the hover. Shouldn't be too hard to subdue, if they wake up.
Action: Help load up anything we're taking back-also, make sure if we take their hover back we disable any sort of communication or tracking system they may have
- I think that we should extract that survivor from the battle suit first, doc. Tell the guys to do that, I'm screwed up.
Chester picked another cigarette from his crumpled pack and lit it.
McGaw tsk'ed
"Make sure you save one of those for my research..." she said, wondering if he would...
You go to check on the jethover. You open the door and take a step back involuntarily: it's full of dead bodies. You count one, two, three, four corpses. The driver is slumped over the controls, his face a sort of bluish-white. Your head swims for a moment, but the gas (and gas it was) has already dissipated too much to harm you.
As for the technicals, the large jet engines seem to be functional at a casual glance, and you're almost certain it'll start. The windshield and the headlights are busted, and if you take it at high speed, it'll be windy as fuck; however, its capacity of fourteen is better than your original machine.
You contemplate giving their radio the boot, but then shake your head and just switch it off. May need it later.
Grinning at the damage he'd done to the safe Will jammed both his hands into it aiming to rip it clean open in one great pull.
Finish opening it.
[4+1] It rips open like tissue paper, boxes scattering down all around you. You check the contents: several crates of grenades, a few explosive charges, boxes of incendiary ammo, sniper scopes, and a large metal briefcase with a black-and-white circle on it: the sign for antimatter. You suppose it's an extra-large bomb of some kind, though you have no idea how large.
"Gaah! Fire, we need fire! If we don't have any, run!"
Find and activate a source of fire to use against the insects. Barring that, run to the camp.
Well, you still have an incendiary grenade. It's a...rather large source of fire, though. Both you and your butt-naked psycho buddy will be extra crispy if you use it without putting some distance between you and the target. There's a timer, though.
FORWARD MOVE!
You run after Markus like your butt is on fire. Soon, you come to a clearing. You see a naked guy lying face-down into the snow and Markus standing over him, contemplating an incendiary grenade. Large insects seem to be homing in on the two purposefully, marching in orderly columns.
The insects resemble Earth termites, but they're larger and meaner-looking, and equipped with a sort of stinger thing which protrudes from the backs of their carapaces.
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Topic: Trailblazers in a World of Winter - Chester crashes the party. (Read 59762 times)