In reply to Brother Edgar (msg # 3):

Roadkill, the Trucker, nodded to the Joanite Doomsayer.

"Welcome back, buddy! Long time, no see." He'd last seen Brother Edgar back in Amarillo, in a little Oiler city-state that called itself the North Texas Republic.

"You can ride with me if you like. But maybe you should ride with Peter. He's only got Jane with him, manning the Ma-Deuce, and I've got Trask, Smoker and Crichton for gunners. What do you say?

"Everyone else seems to be mounted up."

Brother Edgar nodded to Roadkill, "Spreading our strength out sounds like a good plan." Edgar walked to the truck looking in through the passenger window at Peter, "Mind if I catch a ride?" Edgar waited for the young man to agree before mounting up smiling back at Jane, "It is good to be out of that gathering and doing real work again."

Trask climbed up into the position on the truck and checked his spacing between the suit and surrounding obstacles. He then remains motionless as he runs his diagnostics and changes all the targeting symbols in the system and then finally he runs a few scans of the surrounding area using his on board sensors.

It was a shame they were not able to make a run to the market before they left as should the M2 be disabled he only has his Ripper as back up.


-

Peter got out and gave a manly embrace to Brother Edgar, one arm around him clapping his back, the other gripping and shaking his hand. He stepped back a step and looked his old friend over. "It is good to see you alive and well. I am glad you are back with us." The ghost of a smile played on his lips. "And yes of course you are always welcome with us." He gestured towards the truck and then got back in to the driver's seat himself.

In the underground parking at city hall, the techs finished up with Roadkill's truck. They packed their tools and, with a wave to the drivers, walked back to their own vehicle. Trask's diagnostics checked out fine.

It was now 0645. The city above them was still asleep as dawn was breaking.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 8):

Roadkill stuck his head out the glass-less window of the Peterbilt and pulled the airhorn. The loud "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" echoed through the large concrete chambler. He pointed at the exit ramp, then yelled out the window, "Peter, you take point! Let's get a move on! Yee-haa!"

Peter started slightly when Roadkill 'horned' the parking garage, wincing slightly. He shook his head with a small sigh, but didn't say anything. He then gave one last quick visual check to make sure everyone and everything in his truck was ready. Then he pulled smoothly out of his parking space and headed out in to the morning.

The 2-vehicle convoy roared up the ramp from the underground car park under city hall, bursting into the pre-dawn sunlight. Much of Junkyard was still in shadow under the Steel Sky and behind the Wasatch mountains but the sky above was getting brighter by the minute as dawn broke. They turned onto State st., which led to the southern gate and the one closest to their route south-southeast to Cortez, Colorado. The city streets were still empty, and the militia manning the checkpoint at the gate recognised them, waving them through without stopping.

Soon, they were on I-15 South as the sun peeked above the Wasatch Mountains.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 11):

Before they left, they made sure everyone's radios were on the same channel. Peter had a radio in his battlesuit helmet and a CB in his truck. Jane had a headset captured from the Combine, as did Crichton. Roadkill had a CB in his truck cab, Trask had a suit radio.

Over the CB came a call to everyone. "Breaker breaker. This is Roadkill, anyone got your ears on? Come on back.

"I suggest we high-ball it south through Provo, Moab, the Spanish Valley, then to Monticello. Usually, I'd take a right on US-191 there and go around Cortez. You see, there's a little problem. The colony at Cortez is called Near Cortez, and Near Cortez got taken over by the Combine about six months ago and is now a border outpost. There's about a company of Black Hats there, with Red Hat support, some Raptors and even urban pacification units. We don't want to tangle with them!

"However, our contact is code named "Jericho". Now, Jericho's been keeping tabs on the Combine in Near Cortez. We'll kind of loop around Near Cortez to the west and come up from the south, through the Ute Reservation. We can meet Jericho outside the south side of town and they can give us information on the Kargo jerkoff we're after."

 The technowiz kept his peace for a moment after the broadcast from Roadkill. He debated the plan and pronounced it sounds enough for now at least in his head he did. "Jericho? Well guess fine tuning this rifle will be a good thing."
 He proceeded to fiddle with the rifle realigning sights, cleaning the barrel, and the like.

Peter had taken the lead in the small 'convey' or 'caravan' in his smaller truck. He, of course, kept his CB radio running and didn't normally wear his helmet while driving unless he needed to. The helmet blocked some of his visual periphery, and made turning his head too far a challenge at times.

So he was able to hear Roadkill just fine. He took in the information and then pulled the mic to him and spoke back. "I read you, Roadkill, loud and clear. Steering clear of the Combine is almost always a good idea. We will follow the suggested route."

Once the radio was back in place and not on transmit any longer, he muttered to himself (though Brother Edgar was in the cab with him). "If I were a betting man, I would almost wager that in order to obtain the information we want will require some interaction with the Combine."

Trask had nothing to add to the conversation but acknowledged the radio message all the same as he kept watch over his assigned arcs. He would run the odd sensor sweep at points in the journey but for the most part relied on his eye balls for any updates.

-

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 14):

Jane heard what was said and shook her head at Peter.

"Hey everybody.  Just remember which EX Black hat is the good guy now ok?  Don't get too trigger happy."

She kept her eyes opened and her gun ready.

Edgar looked ahead watching the road and the surrounding area, the others seemed to have everything well in hand so enjoying the ride was all he needed to do.

Smoker settled down in his perch and, deciding stealth wasn't a priority when sitting on top of a large truck, rolled a cigarette and lit up.

 "Hey Smoker." he pauses "Can you fire a rifle accurately?" Chricton asks sheepishly.

 He offers the rifle he has been tinkering with for Smoker to inspect.

"Yes, if I have to," replied Smoker. He took the rifle cautiously, checking the load state before doing anything else.

  The load seems to be bullet shaped pieces of metal. No propellant. Normal junker tech is unfinished and haphazard looking this isn't. Matte black finish on top of clean fittings this almost looks like pre-Last War bleeding edge tech.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:25, Wed 21 June 2017.

After ensuring the weapon is safe, Smoker examines the power source.

"Interesting..."

 If you didn't know better the power source is 14 Double A batteries duct taped together with a little tank of what appears to be water. "Please don't open that tank. It would be a mess."

"OK. What's in there?" asked Smoker, his curiousity aroused.

"Umm that is the "slag" pool. Right now it is just water, but after each shot in theory the left over waste from the battery will go into the pool. Not exactly sure if that is it or if the metal shavings from the speed of the magnet will dump into that. Just have to fire it and see." he seems a little mad right then, but then again when don't Chamber Junkers seem nuts.

Smoker continues looking curiously at the weapon for a while, then hands it back.

"Looks... interesting. Where did you pick it up?"

 "I ahh built it. My colleagues needed proof of concept and my dedication to the cause. I have tested it at various stages and it worked just fine. This is the finished product though."

"Impressive. Fantastic workmanship...  How does it handle?" said Smoker.

Yeah, he could make things too, but they generally ended up looking hand-made even if they did work extremely well!