"More or less as expected. The first few kicked like a mule, but I solved most of that by now. Still recoils but not nearly so bad. I just was looking for someone else's opinion on it so I can see if I should make more."
One of the benefits of being a Junker with a Gun browser. Also I told Tony that his tech would look more finished than most because I hate the fact that Mad Scientists could make neat looking tech, but Junkers which are supposed to be more advanced make their stuff look like garbage. The original one looked like Cole Ballard's large bore rifle on the cover of the main book.

"May I try it out sometime?" asked Smoker.

Sunday 29 May 2094
1908 Hours
Hot, dry.

28 Miles SW of Near Cortez

The trip through the dry, hot mountainous country was relatively uneventful. They had valid permits for passage out of Junkyard-controlled territory, and they saw their last checkpoint in Green River, Deseret, just past noon. It was manned by a militia company. Mostly infantry (similar to but better-armed and equipped than was usual in the Wasted West) supported by a platoon of armoured cars and SUVs, plus an APC with an autocannon and a battery of mortars.

After Green River, they turned south. The terrain was still rugged, dry, and if anything more hotter. And more rugged. They were in Ute territory now, although that wasn't really obvious. What was more noticeable was when they crossed the old former border of Deseret and Colorado, not to far from the "four corners" where Deseret, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico met. The former national border wasn't that elaborate as Deseret and the USA had been allied states, but there had been a cluster of customs and border patrol buildings on both sides of the imaginary line in the desert. Now all the buildings, Deseret and US, were all burned out, concrete shells with landscaping long-dead due to a lack of pumped water.

Just southeast of there, on the Colorado side, was the intersection of Colorado Route 41 (the road they were travelling on) and Route 160. There, some 28 miles southwest of occupied Near Cortez, was where their contact, Jericho, was supposed to meet them. They didn't know what or who they were looking for, but if they found anyone waiting they had a recognition code: "Triceratops". The counter-sign was "Playground".

The sun was setting behind them as they approached the intersection, about two miles ahead of them. Around them was flat desert, the only vegetation were low tufts of tough desert grasses. Visibility to the horizon was excellent, they could see for miles on the flat desert. Parked at the intersection was a motorcylcle. At this range (2 miles distant) it was impossible to tell what kind or where the rider was located.

Smoker dug out his binoculars and started scanning, beginning with the parked bike and looking for disturbances in the vegetation around it - had the rider made off down the road, he'd have been visible, so likely he's somewhere in what bushes there are. He also glanced skywards - if the worst had befallen the rider, the vultures would be circling.

Peter stopped for a minute, making sure that Roadkill was caught up to them. He rolled down his driver's side window. He pulled his advanced combat rifle out of its case. He climbed up through the open window to 'sit' on the door with his legs still inside the cab. He pulled the rifle up and he looked out through the scope, first at the motorcycle and then slowly began to look around from side to side.

Assuming he didn't see anything resembling a trap, he climbed back in and radioed Roadkill he was going in.

Looking around Edgar was not quite sure what to think when told of the lone bike, he sat up trying to keep an eye on things close by as the others searched the outlying area.

As the sun set in the west over the rough mountains of the Ute Mountain Reservation in Utah, over the border in Colorado the small convoy rolled up to the intersection of highway 41 and US 160. Although there were mountains all around them the immediate area was hardpan and sandy. Sand had drifted over the road in places, making for a little slow going.

Roadkill broadcast on the CB, "Jericho, this is Roadkill calling. You got your ears on, good buddy? Come on back."

After a couple calls of this nature a figure stood up, half-concealed by a spider hold dug a hundred yards from the bike and covered with camo netting. In one hand was a rifle, "Jericho" (presumably) used the other hand to wave at them.

Trask did another scan of the area just after the figure stood up. It was certainly not standard behavior, but if he was out here on his own Trask would probably do the same. "Do you want company for the meet and great ?" he asks over the team comms net.

-
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:01, Sat 08 July 2017.

In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 36):

Due to the desert heat, Trask was unable to engage his FLIR. That said his advanced sensors did not detect anything out of the ordinary.

Regardless what others might do, this person was in a hurry. Perhaps they were also expecting the convoy and had a description? Whoever they were, they trotted to the road and waited for the technical to pull up.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 37):

The figure remained hidden under layers of sand-coloured cloth, with a hooded veil and goggles completely obscuring their face. Whoever it was, they were of average size and build but it was difficult to tell. When Peter pulled up he heard a voice altered by a voice synthesiser.

"Ok. I gotta make this quick before the Black Hats notice I am gone. A man matching the description you are looking for came through here on a hover-bike. Near Cortez is occupied by a Combine garrison but he had some kind of transit pass. He tried to keep it quiet but I found out he was looking for route information to a colony in Louisiana, some place called "Vivian". There's nothing there other than a small Waster community. What was waiting for him there, he wouldn't say.

"Anything else?"

In reply to Jericho (msg # 38):

The CB in the truck and Peter's helmet radio crackled.

"Breaker, breaker, Peter, you got your ears on, goosd buddy? Is it safe to approach? Come on back."

Peter drove up to where the motorcycle was and parked the truck. He stepped out and gave a nod to the figure, "Are you...Jericho?" He felt a little silly using a codename, although for all he knew that was the person's last name or something.

He listened to what the figure had to say and then Roadkill called out over the radio. "Yes, Roadkill. Come, hurry and I will tell you what was said."

To "Jericho" he said, "Please wait a few minutes. My allies may have questions and I do not want to trust conversation over the radio. We could be overheard. Surely just a few more minutes will not cause you trouble. We shall try to be brief."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 40):

Jane frowned when Peter stepped out.  The crazy Indian would get himself killed one day by doing that.  Of course they all would get themselves killed doing their jobs.

"I've got you covered Peter so don't get in the way of my shot.  Be careful."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 40):

The figure nodded checking a wristwatch. "Yes, I am Jericho.

"I do kind of have this timed to the minute, the Combine is watching me. But I do have a little leeway.

"Go ahead and have your friends come in and ask what they want."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 40):

Roadkill pulled the rig up to where the agent waited patiently.

He asked a few questions, mostly verifying the information was about the man they were after, and it definitely seemed like it was, and where he was going.

"All right. I know where this Waster town is located. Vivian, Louisiana. We can make it there in a day or two. We might be able to catch up because we won't stop for fuel like Kargo will. I don't like travelling at night so that's not as big a factor. But yeah, I know the route.

"I got what I wanted, anyone else got a question?"

Peter thought for a moment while Roadkill showed up and everyone was filled in. He looked Jericho over a moment and then spoke up, "Jericho. Do you know if the Combine has a presence in this Vivian? And if so, what sort of presence?" He didn't know if that was even a concern, but might as well ask the inside expert while he was there.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 44):

A shake of the head from Jericho. Whoever or whatever it was under the desert robes and camouflage looked muscular, solidly built, if short. Again, the voice was distorted by a synthesiser built into a full-face gas mask.

"Combine? No. Intelligence indicates they are not in Vivian. Roadkill? You're a trucker, you know anything about this 'burg?"

In reply to Jericho (msg # 45):

The name sounded familiar. Roadkill nodded. "Oh yeah. Let me think. Some capped oil wells around there they started up again, and agriculture. A Law Dog named Thomas Itson declared Martial Law. Fair and honest traders, don't break the law if you know what's good for you. Don't know what a scumbag biker like Kargo would want there." It had been a while but he'd been through there, scouting for the Convoy. Before that when he was with the road gang they had steered clear of the place.

 "Things can change Roadkill. Mr. Itson might not be around anymore or more likely Kargo might go there and claim he is the legit owner which makes us all the thieves. No way to know for sure until we get there." the normally silent Junker says

In reply to Tech. Sgt. Airen Crichton (msg # 47):

What Crichton said was true but Roadkill, being something of an irritable jerk, replied with an eye-roll, "yeah, thanks for the news, Cronkite. If that's it, let's roll!"


Marshall's Note: Again, Crichton said something pretty valid and I meant Roadkill's response to be amusing and what that NPC would say, and not a shot across Crichton's bow!

 Chricton just laughs at the Cronkite remark. "Silly trucker Quips are for kids!" laughs his way back to the fighting nest. Mumbling about quips

In reply to Tech. Sgt. Airen Crichton (msg # 49):

Seeing that all information had been imparted, the mysterious agent mounted the motorcycle. After it was kicked to life, the dirt bike turned onto the cracked highway and then roared off in the direction of Near Cortez.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 50):

In the cab of his truck, Roadkill consulted his map and did some figuring.

He then waved Peter over.

"If we travel at a safe speed, we can make Vivian in, oh, 35 hours. Give or take. Three days of driving 12-on, 12-off. We can cut it down to 2 if we drive 16 hours a day. What do you say?"

Peter watched 'Jericho' leave, and stared for a moment, until Roadkill called him over. He turned and walked over to the semi-truck's cab. He listened to Roadkill speak about the potential logistics of the drive. He thought about it for a moment and then replied. "Well. I think we should likely play it safe and go with three days. As much as I would like to get there quicker, I fear trying to cut it down to two days might cause a problem potentially."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 52):

Roadkill looked over at Brother Edgar.

"What say you, my radioactive friend? Does the Glow give you any guidance?"

It was difficult to tell if he was joking or serious, although in the past the trucker had both teased him and been sympathetic to the worship of the Glow. (Or as he sometimes said, "the Blow", depending on how sarcastic he was feeling!)
This message was last edited by the player at 20:09, Mon 21 Aug 2017.