File: Nellis AFB.jpg (948 KB, 5808x3451)

948 KB JPG

>>4574014
>>4574228

—————————————
February 9th, 2331


As of now you had decided to begin a plan of searching various rooms and offices to maybe find some items of interest; particularly any office with a general floor-plan map, which would allow you to better parse out a way going about securing the base. You’ll figure you’d have to decide on whether or not you’ll traverse the halls along with your men, or decide who has to go without you; and specifically who is going to go.

[Franklin O’Hennesy]

>Lead team through the base

>Stay put in the forward operating base

[Units]

>Deployment

[Randy Savage, Assaultron 1/1]

[Heavy Prospectors 2/2]

[Freeside Mercenaries, Light 6/6]

[All]

>>4584737
>Lead team through the base

>>4584861
Forgot to add the party

[Units]
[All]

>>4584737
>Lead team through the base

>>4584863
I too forgot

>>4584737
[All]

>>4584861
>>4584871

After some deliberation, you decide to just bring everyone along as one to venture through the base. Its night-time and its not as if anyone else would enter at this time; though the risk of your team's supplies being taken while away from the FOB was still there however on the off-chance anyone did come through the main ad-hoc entrance into the base.

You turn to the general direction of where the rest of your men and Randy were in, "Alright." You bark out to gain attention. "Let's move out."

The others would seamlessly in a loose column begin to follow you as you go down the left of the wide hall-section of the base. Randy, your Assaultron, was of course the nearest to you. The Freeside Mercenaries were more lighter and generally faster than the Heavy Prospectors, so they were the second closest to you; while the Heavy-kitted Prospectors made up the rear.

When you all finally made it to the left endpoint of the hall, you finally realize how moderately unoptimal it was with everyone here in this new slight-narrow Hallway in contrast with the chamber that functioned as your FOB. The walk was seemingly almost unmitigated, until you and your team come upon the first encounter within the base; at the door to the left-side of you would be a fairly standard office room with the cubicle-wall dividers and terminals. However a Mr Gutsy would be hovering around the room in a back-and-forth pattern. Luckily the bot didn't see you and most of your team was behind yourself, thus not being in the Mr Gutsies range of vision.

>Engage in the Mr Gutsy

>Continue walking through the halls

>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie

>Write-In

>>4584892
>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie
Invest 1 blood to agility or stealth

>>4584892
>>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie

>>4584892
>>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie
( Welcome back )

>>4584892
>>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie

>>4584892
>>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie

>>4584892
>Predicting its movement patterns by now, try and sneak up and hack the Mr Gutsie
If we give Randy more padding and a THICCER ass, would that boost our assaultron's charisma?

>>4585156
Maybe paint on some abs and give him a killer beard ?

>>4584897>>4585156

(Back, I fell a sleep)

{Frank uses Bloodbuff: 1 Vitae expended}

{Vitae 9/20}

{Current Dexterity = 3|Temporary New Dexterity = 4}

"Everyone hold." You'd quietly say, slightly turning your head over your shoulder. The men and your Assaultron immediately do so at hearing this. One of the Freesider Mercenaries would balk up.

"What's happenin'?" He'd ask in confusion. You'd throw up your index finger to your mouth, signaling for him and the others to be silent. Mr Gutsies were obtuse, but with some many people in this one hallway, it was likely they could get sighted. That wasn't a good prospect since the thing had a plasma blaster, flamethrower, and combat saw.

"There is a Gutsie in the room to the side of us." You explain to your team. "I'm going to sneak in behind it and try to hack it down." All of your men look at you incredulously, but no one says anything rather to leave everything to the expert.

You crouch down then peer into the room by the frame opening into the room. It was still doing its monotonous back-and-forth in the cubicled room. The partition cubicle-walls will definitely help you in not getting sighted by the Gutsie, but it was still very risky. And despite pumping up your Vitae to make you slightly faster, you still weren't good at sneaking that much..

>[Roll 4d10 of Dexterity against a DC of 5. Bo3]

Rolled 2, 6, 2, 10 = 20 (4d10)

>>4585177

Rolled 5, 9, 1, 10 = 25 (4d10)

>>4585177

Rolled 1, 3, 9, 7 = 20 (4d10)

>>4585177

File: Mister_Gutsy.png (324 KB, 687x693)

324 KB PNG

>>4585178
>>4585196
>>4585214


>[3 Successes, Complete]

With the Mr Gutsie only having one visor sphere-eye and it being an elongated one, its general cone of vision wasn't that extraordinary; it was easy for you to round the sections between the cubicle partitions to hide away from its sight. You were only slightly clumsy and unwieldly because you weren't adept at sneaking, but the added boost to your natural reflexes and preciseness from the Vitae you expended greatly helped you get around the moderate sized room.

Finally the Mr Gutsie would do a turn, its floating-back in your general vision as it began to patrol down another portion of the section of the room not divided by the cubicle partitions. You'd quickly round the corner of the partition you were formally peering from and quickly crouch-job toward the propulsion hovering robot. The bare fire it exhumed from its propulsor roused an instinctive fear into you; it was there and previously in other situations that you noticed since becoming a Vampire.. you didn't like fire whatsoever. But here you had to steel yourself.

After a few seconds of moving, you'd finally be at the very back of the Mr Gutsie. Being this close pumped your anxiety even further, but you didn't dare to falter.

>[Roll a 9d10 of Intelligence + Robotics against a DC of 7. Bo3]

Rolled 2, 6, 5, 8, 6, 5, 10, 10, 7 = 59 (9d10)

>>4585222

Rolled 5, 5, 3, 2, 6, 5, 1, 9, 6 = 42 (9d10)

>>4585222

>>4585224
>>4585232

>[4 Successes, Exceptional]

The Mr. Gutsie model being a more complex variant than its counterpart Mr. Handy model due to being a military robotic unit, was without much saying as you deftly slauntered your hands to the inner portion of its back chassis through the slight gap where the propulsor was at. Within this inner part of the chassis was a standard panel common to all Mr. Handy and Mr. Gutsie robots. Feeling around quickly all over the panel, you'd find the button you were looking for; the instant maintenance functioner. You press it immediately and the without any delay the Mr. Gutsie's propulsor shuts down, making it drop to the floor with a slight thud.

You'd finally stand and looked around the room. It was generally devoid of any other Nellis AFB robotic units beside the Mr. Gutsie you shutdowned, so you'd turn your head to the general direction of the opening into the room. "Clear." You'd say aloud.

With that the others would begin filtering into the moderate sized office-room from the outside hall. The aisles between each cubicle were wide enough for everyone to atleast be here at once to some degree. The Heavy Prospectors of the group seemed elated to find an unpicked area of the base, despite how mundane the items here presumably would be. The Freesider Mercenaries however were a mix of bored and somewhat alert knowing the rumors of Nellis AFB.

>Quickly search this room for anything interesting to move on through the base

>Take a sizable amount of time searching the room

>While your men search the room, you'd resign to hacking the Gutsy more indepth

>Tell Randy Savage to blast down the Gutsy

>Since this was an office room, there would presumably be nothing interesting here. Move on

>Write-In

>>4585236
>>While your men search the room, you'd resign to hacking the Gutsy more indepth

>>4585246
This
Pull it over to the closest terminal to run diagnostics and possible find useful data off of it that might make our trip safer.

>>4585256
>possible find useful data off of it that might make our trip safer.
My angle was more of "score another ally" but I like yours better. Might be some lucrative information on there.

>>4585246
>>4585256

You look around the room once more while nodding, "Alright. Search around this room." You say to your men. You'll then turn to Randy next, "Guard the door."

With everyone milling about the room, your attention turns toward the Mr. Gutsie you shutdown. Deciding that you wanted to glean some internal data from it, you'd bend then hug its wide spherical chassis to carry it. It was very heavy for you, but you dragged-carried it around the aisles regardless in search of an operative terminal in one of the cubicles.

After a good 2 minutes, up ahead you'd see the distinctive green blare of a particular cubicle signifying that it had a working terminal. Walking into the cubicle you'd set the all to common desk with the usual office items and the main prize you suspected to find; a terminal. Without much waste of time you drag and set the Mr. Gutsie against the desk, then began looking to see if there was any cord you can use to connect the Mr. Gutsie to the terminal itself.

Opening a few drawers of the desk, you'd finally find one and plug it into the back of terminal, then stretch the cord to plug into the inner maintenance port of the Mr. Gutsie. Logging into the terminal, you'd of course find that access to it was locked by good password security; not surprising considering this was a military base. Computers are somewhat of your forte due to overlapping with Robotics, but this security would prove to somewhat be a challenge.

>[Roll a 6d10 of Intelligence + Computers against a DC of 9. Bo3]

Rolled 7, 9, 3, 10, 7, 3 = 39 (6d10)

>>4585284

Rolled 10, 2, 8, 10, 2, 5 = 37 (6d10)

>>4585284

>>4585286
>>4585300

>[2 Successes, Moderate]

You'd begin tapping the keyboard with level-headed caution and going off your average knowledge of computers to jumpstart the process of hacking this terminal. After inputting a few commands, the screen shifts then draws up a sortie of scrambled letterings and symbols. Between this maelstrom of randomness were concrete and precise words or phrases; one of them were the correct one to gain access to the terminal.

The words themselves were very complex and generally unused ones, to your belief, even words that weren't used that much pre-war by themselves disregarding the current era alone. You began to pick a word at random- wrong input that left-corner of the screen would flash. To the right of the screen corner showed the amount of individual words in the phrase you had gotten right, which was a good clue point to begin with. BLUM were the sequence of letters.. Now to attempt another try.

Without much surprise, you'd get the wrong word and the left-corner of the screen flashes once more. One more strike and you were out. However knowing a common trick, you'd logout of the terminal and restart the password-decipher routine again, which gave you all your chances back. You'd continue this a few times in succession- this terminal was tough to crack open. Finally after much tiredness, you'd finally find out the password: Blummer. You had no idea what it meant, but you were happy you had gotten in at last.

The contents of the terminal itself were free to you. Generally there were the common administrative terminal commands and then some menus relating to office functions itself. It also had a personal entry menu that would prove interesting too.

>Disregard all the other standard commands and begin an attempt to access the Mr Gutsy

>Check the personal terminal entry menu

>Peruse the administrative commands

>Check the clerical menus

>Peer your head up from the cubicle and see what your men were doing

>Write-In

>>4585320
>Peer your head up from the cubicle and see what your men were doing
We are the tard wrangler of this operation

>>4585320
>Peer your head up from the cubicle and see what your men were doing

>>4585320
>>Peer your head up from the cubicle and see what your men were doing

>>4585327
>>4585339
>>4585363


They were milling about still through each cubicle, noisily ruffling about and speaking loudly among themselves with inane small-talk. Everything seemed alright until you noticed one of your men, a Freeside Mercenary, begin to walk in the general direction down an aisle by a strange looking sensor. Scrutinizing it further, your eyes widen in surprise; it was a turret sensor. Before you could warn him, a false wall would retract loudly.

"Dive away!" You'd well at the top of your lungs. The Freeside Mercenary to his own merit was quick-witted, which was expected considering his background as a Merc and living in Freeside, and dove inside a nearby cubicle. Everyone else would be alarmed and look in the general direction of where you were, "What are you waiting for, everyone take cover!"

Everyone was shuffling quickly to their own points of shelter from whatever you were warning them about. The warning came to fruition when the false wall finally parted to reveal the turret itself; a Mk2 Turret, laser bearing. It had sighted Randy guarding the opening into the room and immediately began firing. Randy's combat routines kicked in and it quickly sidestepped to lean against the wall, but some blasts seemingly hit its shoulder as you saw it before ducking down completely in the cubicle itself.

You'd unholster your 1911, but you knew it wouldn't do much against the frame of the turret with the caliber you had. You didn't know the positions of everyone beside yourself and Randy, so this will be slightly difficult to coordinate.

{DANGER}

>Order your Heavy Prospectors to peer up and fire out a volley

>Order Randy to begin to charge up a monoblast

>Tell all your Freesider Mercs to peer up from your respective cubicles in unison and fire off a volley together

>You knew turret design pretty well. Quickly peer up and aim for its single optical-eye. It may take a few shots, but taking out that alone will severely limit its effectiveness

>Fuck it, tell everyone to peer up and fire up at once. It may become messy, but nothing should go critically wrong

>Write-In

>>4585369
>>Write-In
can we hop back on that terminal we cracked, and back track a bit while having everyone lay low for the time being? maybe the thing can be simply shut off with it? assuming it's just a general terminal in this office, that may not be the case, but then again it did have a pretty heavy duty security set-up.

>>4585369
>Fuck it, tell everyone to peer up and fire up at once. It may become messy, but nothing should go critically wrong

>>4585369
>Write-In
Expend 1 vita's for perception. That's for shooting right?

>You knew turret design pretty well. Quickly peer up and aim for its single optical-eye. It may take a few shots, but taking out that alone will severely limit its effectiveness

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>4585383
>>4585385
>>4585408

Writing...

>>4585408

You mulled over different points of action in your head and each of the thought of scenarios were very risky. In the end you had decided that with you being more versed in how this turret works, you'd know its critical weak spot more better than the rest. Sure, you could just tell them to shoot at the optical-eye of the turret, but the precise areas of where the bullets would need to hit it are generally unknown to the rest of this team besides you.

Even though you didn't need to particularly breath or exhale as an undead Vampire, you still mimicked the motion subconsciously as you mentally prepared to peer out quickly over the partition cubicle walls. To doubly assert you getting a good chance of hitting the specific hardware regions of the optical-eye of the turret, you released a Bloodbuff surge in your general eye area. Instantaneously you'd feel the effect course through and your vision becomes sharper than previously.

{Franklin uses Bloodbuff: 1 Vitae expended}

{Vitae 8/20}

{Current Perception = 3|Temporary New Perception = 4}

The previous use of your Bloodbuff for you making you faster was fleeting, but it was still there. It'd be useful in ensuring a hopeful greater speed than the active Mk2 turret.

INITIATIVES
————————
Franklin: 1d20(17) + 7(IR) = 24
Mk2 Turret: 1d20(6) + 4(IR) = 10

Without anymore delay or possible preparation, you quickly peer over the cubicle, your 1911 hoisted straight at the optical-eye of the turret. With a mix of your speed and you being undead, being somewhat hard to register than living targets, it doesn't sight you immediately; giving you the perfect window of fire.

<Gunfire: 1911 Pistol (Damage 3) + Perception 4|7d10 (10 4 2 1 3 5 2)|DC 6| = 1 dmg>

The bullet struck the optical-sensor dead upper-center where you intended it; the general impact from what you saw wasn't that damaging however. Though if you had shot anywhere else, the .45 probably would've simply bounced off the frame of the turret. It did however slightly hob-up the turret as you get see the red-blare of the optical-sensor flash periodically.

From the shot you took however, the turret would motion to your general area with a triangulation from that discharge and merely begin to spool up a barrage.

>{cont'd}

>>4585452

{Mk2 Turret's fire off: 1d20(11) + Dexterity 2 + Targeting Systems 3 =16>
vs
{Franklin's duck back into cover: 1d20(18) + Dexterity 4 =22>

In an unmitigated response to the shot you gave to the turret, its finished spool would blast a large volley in your direction. You luckily enough had already ducked, but the rapid laser fire mashes and heaps against the ceiling over the cubicle you taking cover in; peppering you and everything in that space with dust and tangs of vaporized rubble. The ash and smoke you get in all over your face, but its a nuisance than a hazard since you didn't need to breath. The Mk2 turret would cease its firing cycle as you guessed, since you didn't hear anymore discharge nor any red flashes through the billowing smoke.

"Jesus!" One of your men in one of the many cubicles would yellow out. "Now this is what I call fun!" Another one in a different cubicle would say.

>Attempt another shot at its optical-sensor once again

>Order your Heavy Prospectors to peer up and fire out a volley

>Tell all your Freesider Mercs to peer up from your respective cubicles in unison and fire off a volley together

>Order Randy to begin to charge up a monoblast. A laser vs laser fight between two robots would be more even; even with the fact that Randy's rate of fire wasn't as good as the turret.

>Fuck it, tell everyone to peer up and fire up at once. It may become messy, but nothing should go critically wrong

>Check back into the terminal you logged into and see if there are turret control-commands in it

>Write-In

>>4585454
>Check back into the terminal you logged into and see if there are turret control-commands in it

>>4585454
>Check back into the terminal you logged into and see if there are turret control-commands in it

>>4585455
>>4585493

(Last post for today, gotta sleep)

When most of the smoke and dust clears up for the cubicle to be seeable again, you'd go for the terminal. Wiping off the all the minuscule ceiling debris from the keyboard, you'd begin going through the various menus of the terminal; searching for anything viable to use against the Mk2 turret. As such however with this terminal being for clerical use, it had no access to the turret. Though you could attempt to somehow gain access to the turret, assuming this room was operating in one local network.

>Attempt to establish a command-link to the Mk2 Turret

>Attempt another shot at its optical-sensor once again

>Order your Heavy Prospectors to peer up and fire out a volley

>Order Randy to begin to charge up a monoblast. A laser vs laser fight between two robots would be more even; even with the fact that Randy's rate of fire wasn't as good as the turret.

>Fuck it, tell everyone to peer up and fire up at once. It may become messy, but nothing should go critically wrong

>Write-In

>>4585494
>Attempt to establish a command-link to the Mk2 Turret

>>4585494
>>Attempt to establish a command-link to the Mk2 Turret

>>4585494
>>Attempt to establish a command-link to the Mk2 Turret

>>4585495
>>4585546
>>4585633

"Everyone, keep down.." You yell loudly, hoping atleast some in the room hear you. With that said out, you'd begin attempting to boot up the factory maintenance sub-program up on the terminal. As it was a terminal dedicated to clerical work as you noted beforehand, you'll have to somehow configure a direct connection and new menu chain that'd allow you to connect with the turret.

With only your average knowledge computers and doing this without any clear reference to glean from, you mess up attempting to access the factory maintenance portion of the terminal program manytimes. It frustrated you alot, but after have a small eureka moment, you figured out what you did wrong and began gearing toward accessing the program. Finally you did... but now you had to configure whole new menu and function-link directly to the Mk2 turrent.

>[Roll a 6d10 of Intelligence + Computer against a DC of 9. Bo2]

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>4585643
HWG

Rolled 8, 7, 5, 9, 9, 1 = 39 (6d10)

>>4585669
Oh my used the wrong dice

Rolled 3, 4, 3, 6, 1, 9 = 26 (6d10)

>>4585643

>>4585670
>>4585673

>[2 Successes, Moderate]

It was quite hard to on the fly set up a new, functioning, index-programmed menu in general; whether or not considering your deadly circumstance with the Mk2 Turret in the room or setting up an advanced attaché for another function entirely. More basic ones were more easier to set-up of course, but this was complex. You made sure to double-check your inputted work frequently. One miss in this entire menu write-up and the turret would still be active and presumably either gun down you, or one of your men.

Finally when you thought you had it all correct, you'd quickly press the enter button. After exiting the factory maintenance screen and back at the home portion of the terminal, you'd see the new menu. You had a sheer hope that this worked as you tapped enter into the menu and a the only function you inputted in was to bare; [Shutdown Mk2 Turret #928194?]

Without much delay you'd press [Y]. A few seconds passed, but you'd hear distinctive low mechanical hum in the room. Slowly raising, you peer slightly over the cubicle partition, then rear up more after sighting the turret head was downturned.

Hell, you did it! It was off!

"Alright, the turret is clear." You attempt to say professionally as you could, trying to mask the proud underneath your words. Everyone began filtering out the cubicles they took cover in and everyone began to form up in a centre-like aisle in the room.

"That was nice work." One of the Freesider Mercenaries would say as an aside. Another chimes up too, "Yeah. That shitlackin' turrey' scurred the shit outta me."

You'd shake your head slightly, "No sight really. I'm mostly good with Robotics, so it helps a bunch when it comes to computers generally."

>Order everyone to continue peering throughout the room

>Head back to cubicle with the only active terminal and continue your use into it

>Head outside the room and inspect Randy

>This room is more or less dealt with, lets continue moving on

>Write-In

>>4585688
>>Head back to cubicle with the only active terminal and continue your use into it

>>4585688
>Head back to cubicle with the only active terminal and continue your use into it
Point out sensors and devices they need to keep an eye out for so this doesnt happen again.

>>4585688
>>Order everyone to continue peering throughout the room
That may have triggered up other systems in the complex such as bring bots on us

>>4585688
>>Head back to cubicle with the only active terminal and continue your use into it
Warn the others to keep aware of their surroundings they ain't getting paid for doing nothing

>>4585726
>>4585750
>>4585916

After you let your men talk among themselves for awhile, you'd begin to speak up. "Don't anyone of you trigger any of the security systems here again." You tell them. "Watch we're your going. If you want to make it out of here alive, do as such."

There a mixture of nods and slightly enthused grunts from everyone. You told them they could still scavenge for a bit, but essentially told them to stay put because you were all about to leave this room soon. No point in triggering another mishap if you could avoid it.

Entering the same cubicle again, everything was still there as you left it; with the added effect of dust and debris everywhere from the cause of the ceiling above being shot up by the turret. The Mr Gutsie was still there and still plugged in.

>Check the personal terminal entry menu

>Peruse the administrative commands

>Check the clerical menus

>Attempt further access to the Mr Gutsy

>Write-In

>>4586105
>Check the personal terminal entry menu
Do we have a watch? Make sure we have a timer set so wee can leave this place before sunset. it would be weird if we started to panic for no apparent reason

>>4586105
Supporting >>4586111

>>4586111
Definitely. Good call on the watch.

>>4586111
supporting

>>4586111
>>4586116
>>4586127
>>4586129


As begin to set about perusing the terminal, you take a look at the internal clock it possessed to the top-right of the screen. 1934 hours. Ah it was military time. Made sense since this was a military installation. Scrounging up your memory, you somewhat remember that the 1900th mark in military based time was about 7 o'clock. So to extrapolate, it was 7:34 PM. Still a very good amount of time.. its just that you wished you had a watch with you. You'll have to buy one once this is all finished.

You click the personal entry menu of the terminal and figure out whoever owned it was named 'Freddy Eliot'. He had some rank-abbreviation, "A1C", but you of course didn't know about it because you weren't really versed in Old World military functions or study beyond if it had interest to Robotics. You had a hunch, but it probably had to be a rank belonging to the Airforce, or you could be wrong.

Whoever this person was from what you could glean from the oldest log entries, he was assigned to this desk duty due to some mishap he had with his reigning officer. He seemed quite embittered and bragged about being a menace in this clerical organization center- what this office room was dedicated to essentially. With the Sino-American war blaring up with the US invasion of China through the Philippines into Shantou years prior, almost all personnel were pressed into the army and little was done to ensure their quality; which Eliot took advantage of to do whatever he pleased it seems.

When you sparsed through most of his inane writings, you finally came upon the entries more closer to the Great War.

[ENTRY #1834, 10/22/77]

'Crap, shit is getting to boring round here. Me and the boys are gonna hitch up some broads in the town outside this heap-dump later tonight. Just hope we don't get caught XD.'

[ENTRY #1835, 10/22/77]

'Don't know what's happening, but shit is getting rough all of sudden. The base just went on code-8.. the word of the grapevine was that something was going to go down soon, curtesy via a leak from High Command. I "burrowed" some things from the armory had buried out in the desert by the motel.'

What motel was he talking about? What, he must mean the one by Woodbury Beltway.. roughly a few hours north-west of here. You'll definite want to uncover the supplies yourself later.. This single still continued however, so you snapped out your reverie and continued reading.

'We got more activity than usual. Supplies were supposed to come in from St. George, but the riot from last week in that city is still going on.'

>(cont'd)

>>4586164

[Entry #1836, 10/22/77]

'Something weird is going... Three men just arrived in the base today.. and something.. was off about them- I can't quite explain it. One was huge, larger and had more mass than anyone I've ever seen from either of the three branches. One moved very unnaturally.. but precise all at the sametime. The last one, who seemed to be the leader, had some uncanny charisma and deadly presence about him..'

Hm, now this was getting interesting. Strange men arrive unannounced to a red-alert military base?

'Colonel Terrel met them directly at the entrance, wanting an explanation why civilians asked for him and why they came to an Airfoce base on a high alert. Then they named dropped some guy... Hen-something? I forgot.. but then the Colonel acted strange all of a sudden, his usual bitchmade scowl turned into a smile of all things..'

'They were granted access to the base with no trouble and no one hasn't seem them since.. they just disappearance into the base'

It was then the entries stopped. Hm. Who were these three men? They seemed very unusual if an inattentive one like Eliot took detailed notice of them.

>Peruse the administrative commands

>Check the clerical menus

>Attempt further access to the Mr Gutsy

>Time to leave this room and scout out other places of interest of the base

>Write-In

>>4586168
>>Check the clerical menus
Hopefully those thing are still by the motel, next time we feed we should probably go look for them afterwards

>>4586168
If we don't have a watch, the synchronize the terminal's clock to Randy's internal clock so he can alert us when it is time to skedaddle on out of there.

>Check the clerical menus

>>4586175
>>4586343

Randy already was intuned with an internal clock all on its own. You supposed that it didn't warn you before the other night.. because well.. you didn't really have a chance to ask it in the first place due to the whole tussle with the Nosferatu from the other night. You'd also have to be sure to not ask in a telling manner you supposed, as to not really bring suspicion upon yourself to your men.

Logging out the personal section of the terminal, you bring to now peruse the exact "meat" of what Elliot's job truly entailed. As his personal entries slightly alluded to, but wasn't as concrete since he truly didn't care for his job; it was one of a logistic manner. Judging from all the tasks and reports listed in these clerical entries, he was a mid-level cog in the massive supply network that was this installation.

While not meant to be much on its face value, the supply write-offs and confirmation notes acts as somesort of "map" of a sorts on its own; not a cartographic one, but a text based one from which you were getting clues on where to go in particular. This base floor was mostly a staging area, flight runway, and checking-in floor- essentially just the basic surface level of any pre-war American airforce base...

..However as you went deeper and checked more confirmation notes, you noticed that this base had more levels to it; atleast 5. The first 2 were more revealed to you, but it seems Elliot only had the bare minimum for the other levels as everything was redacted... but how could he work if files sent to him were redacted? Were these "corrections" posthumous? It imparted you a mix of confusion, curiosity, a small pang of mysterious dread.

You didn't know.

In any case this surface level was a good starting point to deal with.. and clearing it all would certainly satisfy the deal you have with Vance.. the other levels, you didn't know if you would have time to investigate them further in this night alone..

>Attempt further access to the Mr Gutsy

>Peruse the administrative commands

>Continue to clear out parts of this section of the surface interior of the base, focusing more on the task at hand

>Head to one of the hangers detailed in Elliot's clerical reports

>Head to the Infirmary

>Head to base Library

>Head to the Mil. Customs site of the base

>Attempt to head to the second level

>Write-In

>>4586444
>Peruse the administrative commands
Maybe we might get lucky and get a good chunk. Can we expend one more vitae? I know we're running low, but if we can do this that might save us a whole lot of trouble.

>>4586460

(We can spend as much Vitae as we please.. its just that at a certain point we'll become ravenously hungry.. starved even.. then alot of mishaps could certainly happen)

Next you began to check the administrative menus at last. Most of them were simply functions that were defunct of any use. One of the functions was the command [CLOSE OFFICE SECURITY DOOR] however.. so this whole time the activation to close where the Mk2 turret was housed was here in this terminal the whole time.. meaning you used made a whole new menu for nothing.

You'd chuckle. Well atleast you got some computer practice in nonetheless. You quickly press enter to that function and immediately the false-wall would begin protracting into place once again. The sudden noise started a couple of your men that were still near the general area the turret, making you laugh to yourself some more.

This room was more or less clear. Your men, not even the trained Prospectors amongst the group, noted anything of real worth beyond some office supplies and a few pieces of ammo and a few US. Army pistols.

>Ask for the pistols some of your men had found

>Attempt further access to the Mr Gutsy

>Continue to clear out parts of this section of the surface interior of the base, focusing more on the task at hand

>Head to one of the hangers detailed in Elliot's clerical reports

>Head to base Library

>Head to the Mil. Customs site of the base

>Attempt to head to the second level

>Write-In

>>4586487
>Attempt further access to the Mr Gutsy

>>4586487
>>Ask for the pistols some of your men had found

>>4586487
>>Continue to clear out parts of this section of the surface interior of the base, focusing more on the task at hand
Lets do our job. We can screw around a bit more afterward, but as for right now we're proving ourselves to Vance, and once we show him what we can do, he may send some better equipped mercs next time. I'd like to get to the library tonight if possible, after wrapping up our work clearing out more of the surface level. First pick of all the neat books here. Might score something good.
>>4586530
Could we possibly combine asking for a pistol and proceeding with the task at hand?

>>4586532
I'll support this if books will improve our smarts.

>>4586530
>>4586532
>>4586534

You actually didn't have much ammo to this gun your brother Mikey gave you. You'd pop open the slide-hold of the M1911 and grip the magazine, peering inside it. From the looks of it you only had 5 rounds left. "What guns did you get?" You ask one of your heavy-kit Prospectors next to you.

He turns at your abrupt call toward him, "Well it seems to be a couple standard issue guns; a bunch of 10mm pistols. Others seem to be some revolvers of various makes, a 5.56mm pistol, 9mm pistol, a 12.7mm pistol." He'd list off for you.

"Nothing for 45 ACP?" You'd ask of him. He'd go to where the team dufflebag was set down and began rummaging through it.

After a few seconds he'd peer up from the bag while shaking his head, "Nope, no 45 ACP here unfortunately."

You then walk up to the bag he was standing by, clasping your chin in thought. Since the ammo for your M1911 was going to inevitably run out, it'd be good to scrounge a secondary one for when it does happen.

>.357 Magnum revolver

>.44 Magnum revolver

>12.7mm pistol

>10mm pistol

>9mm pistol

>5.56mm pistol

>Write-In

>>4586632
>5.56mm pistol
It's got variety and is the only ammo that can use armor piercing.
Ask if the bag had any AP and standard ammo.

>>4586632
>10mm pistol
Just use this for now, when were back in town we go to the market to find something and see what ammo is regularly available since specific ammo isnt guaranteed to be in stock everytime

>>4586632
> .44 Magnum
I'm a sucker for magnums but I fon't know much about guns so feel free to explain why I shouldn't vote for this

>>4586754
But that's such a shit type of ammo.

>>4586756
>.357 Magnum revolver
Your yeehaa six'em shootems. Big boolets, but a bit of a rarity. Like a balance between rare and common.
>.44 Magnum revolver
Your bigger, angrier yeehaa "fanning the hammer" wild west bullet. Guaranteed to punch fist sized holes into people, but rarer than .357 boolets. Down size to .357 and .44 is that the guns for them are for revolvers. Gotta make sure your shots count. Gotta get speed loaders so you dont have to load each individual boolet.
>12.7mm pistol
I dont know much about this beyond it being bigger than the 10mm, which means it hurts more. Rarer than .44, but only slightly weaker. Upside is that theres an SMG that uses 12.7mm.
>10mm pistol
Same as above but weaker. A relatively common munition.
>9mm pistol
Same as above but even weaker. A very, very common munition. Civilian grade.
>5.56mm pistol
5.56mm is like your standard military munition. Doesnt pack the greatest punch, but versatile in its ammo. Theres a rifle for this in addition to the pistol.

>>4586632
>>10mm pistol

>>4586632
>Write-In
Ask if anyone las a laser pistol, or has found one.

>>4586909
>>5.56mm pistol
I guess if there ain't any lasguns or some shit like this , we could go for this for versality ?

(Just want to pop-in and apologize for the general inactivity guys. I just started a job and I've been swamped as of late. Gonna archive this thread and we'll do part 3 on Saturday. I've been tired lately)

>>4586632
>>5.56mm pistol
We're likely to run into tons of ammo for this thing.
>>4587865
No worries. Thanks for running, OP.
The thread will probably still be up by Saturday, we are still on page 1, /qst/ is a slow board.

You guys think we could get away with giving the Assualtrons hands to it can both punch and use a gun?

>>4587873
I mean if our mechaniks level is high en,ough we could do that ? And if OP let's us obviously
>>4587865
No worries Gm , take your time

>>4587865
Which Saturday

Fuck he's really dead guys. The covid got him.
2021 sucks.

Anyone want to take over, or is this quest dead for good?
Awe man, this is the second Vampire of the Masquerade quest that dropped without finishing. Damn.

>>4586632
Faggot

>>4587865
Creampie Assaultron pussy

>>4587865
Congrats on the new job.