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[Fury] Round Up (Dog 6.0, SeaTac 6.0)
Four days have passed since the Motor Duel that cut the Tax Patrol in half. Four days since Rain was last seen. Four days since the hard, hard blood rain ended.
Dog,
The Arrows are on the move. Admiral hired you to chase down the Tax Patrol, exterminate them. What did he offer you for this, Dog?
While August and Bon are in Pike handling their own work, Sounder's back at the Hideout with Zeus, who woke up with an aching knee. They didn't just stay back because they're injured, though. The pair of them are working on something for you, Dog. What is it?
Rainey's riding with you, right beside you. Cujo's up ahead, riding hard, teeth gritted and ready to kill. Belka's at the back of the pack, with Grunge and the others. The sun's baking overhead, and this far south of Safeco, everything smells like rotting flesh.
Ahead you see trails of smoke. It lines up with the intel on where the Tax Patrol's licking their wounds.
SeaTac,
You're in your fancy jeep riding with the grounder bikes of the Arrows. Joey's in your passenger seat, buckled in, a rifle laying across his lap. In his right hand is some kind of multi-colored yarn weave, a few flecks of plastic embedded in. Joey has been carrying it since you picked him up at Pike, after his visit with Gates' flock. While the Arrows are loaded up for combat, and he's right in the middle of it, your protege can't keep the tiniest of smiles off his face as you drive.
The jeep's holding up well on these broken, dusty roads. Hard clay and miles of dead ground between you and the smoke ahead.
Laika hired you for this work. What did she offer? Did you ask why she's doing this, why she wanted Joey along?
Last night, Kitsap came to see you at your room, seemed like she wanted to sleep with you. What did you do?
Comments
I've made no promises, and Joey was asleep behind his partition. I take comfort where comfort's offered, and Kitsap is... comfortable. She was still here, sleeping in the crook of my arm, when Joey poked his head out. He looked, but when I met his eye he went off to the head for his morning stuff. I nudged Kit awake, and she dressed and went, after a bit of talk.
As to Laika, with the fire in her eyes? She didn't hire me, she asked. Offered a share of the spoils, but mostly asked. Dunno if Dog approves, but it seems Laika's ready to see her son a man, and maybe see me helping him do it.
Admiral and me came to a simple agreement - I get some token jingle up front, he gets me a lead on some water filters and first pick on whatever gets found with the Tax Patrol, no questions asked. They take a lot of loot raidin' and scavvin' and taxin' on people. It's a risky pay scheme - they may have dumped their best stuff and traveled light. But I doubt it.
Sounder and Zeus are working on some custom ammo for the shotty I took from Balance. Zeus has picked up some nasty tricks to use with her own in all her years, I wanna play too. Better than laundry duty.
With this kind of cruel, baking sunshine out, I've got my face and scalp all war-painted to keep off the sunburns as well as look all bad as floods and ready to rock. I got a cover on my face to try and help with the stink. It mostly doesn't. Not sure why the smell's so much worse here.
Glad SeaTac's ridin' with us for this, in that new Jeep of his, even! He was a force to be reckoned with on the Leviathan and I'm not all the way back up to speed, even if I was a good patient and stayed off my leg till today.
Joey's here, too...guess it's about that time that he was really blooded. Or Laika wants to see the lessons SeaTac's put him through in action. I'm curious, myself. The boy is smart and good and quick. He's got a decent gun to hand, and he's not alone. Couldn't really ask for better.
Not sure if I'm ready to see him be a killer, but I know I can square it with myself. I always do.
The smoke ahead grows larger, it's the dark color of something still burning. The wind carries the smell of burning meat. Are either of you hungry?
You spot a dozen vehicles on the horizon, along with shacks and RVs, a mobile village, really. They've surely spotted you by now. The Tax Patrol's nestle up near a hill, they may have dug into it a bit. You'll have speed, Dog, but they have a bit of high ground and some defenses.
What do you do?
Boy, I can always eat somethin' - except when it's rainin'. After all this awful rot smell it's not fully welcome to get a whiff of food. My stomach's confused.
If we can flush 'em out we'll have the advantage. As it is I'll take having the sun to my back. I sign out to the gang and SeaTac, ::Move in from sun side, big noises, hit hard.::
I have some thoughts bubblin' in my head but I need to see more before I try to put any into action. I buzz their boundary, looking for openings.
Dog,
Rainey nods curtly, zips ahead to relay to Cujo. They take four more h-bikes and lead the way to sun side. Cujo bellows and raises a hand axe, hitting the bleep-bleep horn thing on her bike. The grounders are coming up loud behind you, too.
Both,
Ahead, as the sun causes that weird wave from the baking ground, you see what looks like rounded thumbtacks in the ground. As you come closer, you see it's heads on pikes. Lots of heads on pikes.
That's when you hear a thundering boom, like a thunderclap. Followed by the ground exploding near Cujo and Rainey. Dirt flies up in a round hole.
They've got some big gun that way, Dog. And they're battened down behind trailers and jeeps. You outnumber them, sure. But this is going to be pitched.
Why don't you roll to Assault a Secure Position as you come in this round?
Don't mind if I do.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 1. Total: 8)
Helping.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 11)
Combat Driver adds another choice to my result. Choosing four;
Inflicting Terrible Harm (+1 Harm)
Suffering Little Harm (-1 Harm)
Suffering Little Harm (-1 Harm)
We force our way into the enemy's position.
The sun masks the exact location of the Arrows as they sweep in. The Tax Patrol has their own crane, and they're set up a perimeter of wrecked cars and trailers, dropped in like Lego bricks to form their own little fort. With that soaking howitzer they're using to rain some hell on you, it's pretty terrifying.
It's an excellent defense.
That is, unless you are in a h-bike.
Cujo kicks in the boost and hops the row of cars on the west side, screaming the whole way. Rainey, Winn and a hal dozen others come screaming over the makeshift walls firing at anything that moves. They keep moving, tearing like a cyclone through their camp, hopping up over the east wall, leaving death in their wake. They're taking a wide arc, and can easily come around for another pass. Inside the Tax Patrol camp they're running for cover, the few that survived the first assault.
Looks like the crane is active now. The Howitzer does dial in on the grounders, and takes out one of your girls, Dog. What was her name?
SeaTac,
That motorcycle girl was right in front of you, the one who was hit with a shell, she tried to move out of the way, but the damn thing nailed her. The gas tank only made it worse. Give me an Act Under Fire to avoid the worst of that flaming wreck. Also, parts of her fly up onto the windshield. It's horrorshow.
What do you do?
Oh, flooding Hell, Sandy..she was feisty and really hustling to upgrade from a grounder to something a little better. Something that hovered, if you can't guess. 'Course, she always had to settle for new grounders. Two of our ground-poundin' girls have hand-me-down bikes offa her.
As I tear through the camp with my Arrows, raining down bloody damnation, raising up howls and screams and hollers, that crane moves. Can't move fast enough to hit us like, can it? S'weird. I keep an eye out for that soaking thing as I bank around with the Arrows for another pass. Can't really slow down till that Howitzer loses its gunner, either.
I slap a fresh clip into my machine gun, but I wait on laying down fire on Tax Patrol's biggest gun. I need to figure out what their bug-out plan is.
AUF
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 10)
Great. Body parts. I give Joey a quick look to check in as I angle the car, aiming to get right up against one of the outer walls of the encampment, so they can't bring that splashing cannon to bear without destroying their own defenses. I want to get out and get in the middle of things where I can do some real damage.
SeaTac,
Joey gives you a shocked look, like "did you see that?!?" but he pulls from your calm, follows your lead, and looks back at the front, trying to peer around the blood and the gore for a target.
You pull the jeep up to a carwall and stop, hopping out. Joey opens his door, then hitches up his rifle to follow as you try to make your way in. I'm going to give you a situational +1 Forward since the Arrows have done what they've done, but I want to see you Assault a Secure Position.
Dog,
No, that crane has no chance against an h-bike with a skilled rider, but in the chaos of a battle, that hook at the end could catch someone unaware, and they would be done for.
Why don't you Keep an Eye Out here?
Rolling to Assault a Secure Position, with +1 Forward (Marking XP, which means an Advance.)
(Rolled: 2d6+4. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 15)
SeaTac,
Holy crap! Take 4 choices off the list, that's amazing.
Choices:
Me and the cadet inflict terrible harm (as a small gang).
We suffer little harm (x2).
We force our way into the enemy's position.
(Does that make sense? I chose little harm twice to keep Joey safe, but if it's a chump choice, I can change.)
Keepin an Eye Out for my Peeps; (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 6, 4. Total: 10)
Marking XP (1)
SeaTac,
You move quickly up the carwall and find a spot on top where you unleash hell with your sniper rifle, snagging four headshots from Tax Patrollers who are either trying to get a shot on you or taking cover. Joey wings a few with his rifle, then nails a guy in the leg. He cries out in pain and you cap two more as each tries to come in and drag the guy to safety.
Something about that guy, in his little vest and striped pants, looks like a joker, but damn, two guys died trying to pull him out. He's crawling towards a car that Rainey shot to hell, trying to get under it and hopefully live through this.
You've got bird's eye on this place, and you see what little women and children they have in this horrid place are hiding in the natural cave to the north, behind the wall. There's possibly a dozen fighters left here, all hunkered down except for the fat guy in the crane who's trying to stay alive and do... something.
What do you do?
Dog,
Your Arrows on h-bikes come around for another pass while the grounders are dismounting and working their way up the carwall. Looks like Winnie's going to try and move the busgate so the grounders can ride in, but you get a weird feeling about that bus being left unmanned.
What do you do?
Sarge, in my mind. You've got to look at the whole field of battle, Pyle. What's really going on? I take that advice, try to get a sense of the ebb and the flow.
Opening my Brain (Battlefield Instincts)
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 9)
I split from the pack a second, catch Winnie's eye and sign to her ::Danger, empty could mean rigged.::
Then it's back into the flow of riders, this time of a mind to cover that crane's cockpit with bullets. And the guy inside, 'course.
Spending one of my hold to direct Winnie's attention to a Danger, offering her a -1Harm from it. 2 Hold remaining.
Dog,
Winn-Dixie nods understanding and heads into the bus wary. It'll pay off, you may have saved her some serious pain, but you're moving on in the fight, heading for the crane. He's swung the wrecking ball back and now he's bringing it in a wide arc, sweeping across in hopes of nailing you.
At least, that's what it looks like. But you realize he's angling the crane up during the "swing" and there's something else going on here.
Give me an Act Under Fire to put a stop to this bastich.
SeaTac,
You hear Sarge's voice, not a memory. "Lookit that crane-man, son. He's gonna bring down that cave entrance. He's thinkin' he'll protect the women and children in there, but he's dead wrong! they'll be crushed under them rocks."
Dog's ahead of you, riding hard for that crane.
What do you do?
I kneel, steady myself, and take the shot.
This fella..I try to get ahead of his splashin' around..
Act Under Fire; (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 5. Total: 12)
Dog,
You work with your Arrows to overwhelm this crane idiot. With careful aim, you time his head movements and take the shot. Right between the eyes, you nail him. He falls forward on the controls, the crane arm stops moving towards the cave, but the force of the ball keeps it flying around.
SeaTac,
You see Dog and her Arrows swarm over the crane, stealing your shot. After Dog hits the crane operator, you see it. The ball at the end of the crane is swinging hard, might hurt somebody. With a finely placed shot, the chain chips and the ball comes flying off the end, bouncing twice to slam into a stacked set of cars, knocking them over and away from your people.
Both,
The Arrows and Joey have driven the half dozen Tax Patrolers under cars and into the cave. Now, you can root them out, one by one, on the ground, in the mud, or you can wreck their supplies and ride off to leave them to starve.
And there's the dozen or so folks in the cave, hiding away.
What do you do?
That's a dangerous sort of action, digging around for worms with guns like that, but I hate the idea of destroying those supplies, especially with non-combatants to think about. I could shoot a couple gas tanks on the functioning cars, but chaos helps them, dug in like that.
I tell Joey to follow and zig-zag along past whatever cover we've got, toward Dog. Should be working together.
My Arrows and I bank around the crane, like a familiar pack, scare the right reactions out of the driver and buy me my shot. That was what they called textbook, right?
Holy floodin' smoke, SeaTac shot the ball off a wrecker crane! I whoop and holler, not every day you get to see that sort of thing.
I could go cheap and easy on this raid and leave everyone left here ride-less and starving, yeah. But that means starving kids, and I'm plain not into it. SeaTac makes his way to me, dodgy-like, and I give him a nod. ::Three Arrows, cover, small bangs only.::
Bullets bounce around in caves.
Dog,
Cujo, Rainey, and Winn Dixie all pull up on the other side of the crane from the cave, dismount and draw up hand weapons to move around to give you cover and back up your play.
SeaTac,
You see Dog order a small group of Arrows to watch her back as she moves on the cave. Joey's right behind you, keeping close, more out of a nervous energy than fear.
Both,
There are bags of sand stacked at the mouth of the cave with a half dozen of folks with weapons aiming out at you. Only two of them wear the ganger stripes of the Tax Patrol, the others are women and a couple older folks, decrepit but able to hold a gun in their shaking hands. You hear crying echoing in the dark, hard to tell what.
You're Attacking a Secure Position here. You can roll separately, or one of you leads, the other aides.
What do you do?
I'm rollin' in quick, and hard. Once the guns are out of the scene, maybe we can change things up. Stripers first.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 10)
Dog,
As Arrrows nail both stripers, the others fire off panicked shots. The crying in the cave echoes and bounds off the walls and the pair of old men holding weapons in their frail hands stare at you, at their deaths.
SeaTac,
Laika has a few girls double-tapping the Patrol who hid by cars, doing the grisly mop-up work. SeaTac, you catch sight of Joey watching his mother hack into a guy who was playing possum, finishing him off.
What do you do?
I walk over to Joey. "Hard to watch, isn't it, Cadet? Next time, shoot him before your mother has to do all the work herself."
"Just drop 'em," I snarl. "Everyone who gives up now, drops weapons, I won't kill." I shift my weight forward a little bit, ready to spring. Don't like goin' rough on the old, but guns are guns.
If they drop weapons, I'll herd everyone out of the cave. If not, this goes on.
For the record, Assault a Secure Position choices; suffer little harm, push inside, force a withdrawal.
SeaTac,
Joey watches for a moment, like he's now forcing himself to watch. He moves closer, asks, "Should I... can I... go, uhm, help?"
"Your choice, cadet. I won't judge, either way." If he doesn't, I will. One shot.
Dog,
Your Arrows push in and the elderly give up, accept their fate.
Both,
The fight's over now except for the mop-up. Some barter worth having here, for sure. But you've got twenty elderly men, women and even five or six kids, all who survived living with the Tax Patrol. They're frail with haunted eyes, but alive.
Chance must've drawn the short stra, she comes up to you, Dog, in the cave that smells of sweat and urine, "Dog, we're leaving them behind, right? We don't have enough to go around, and none of them can ride anyways."
What do you do?
"See if you can round up any working cars, or at least limping ones. Worst comes to it, we can load them and some bigger barter we wanna take into that bus and tow it. Easier than the Leviathan job since it's got soakin' wheels on it." I slide my blade back into its sheath at my hip. Look down at Chance. "They ain't our pets, we aren't keepin' 'em. Just bringing 'em someplace where there's work and food."
"Any of you good to drive or steer a towed car?" I ask the Tax Patrol's leftovers.
SeaTac,
Joey shoulders his rifle and moves out to join his mother, then moves ahead. With only a minor tremble to his hand, he fires a shot into an unmoving Tax Patrol ganger. He blinks when the shot goes off.
Dog,
A skinny woman with olive skin and haunted eyes says she can drive, as does one of the elderly men. Your Arrows start moving everyone out, a few kids were huddled in the back of the cave, there are some supplies, food, a latrine, too.
How are you organizing this?
I nod to the woman and the old man, get their names real quick. If we find two cars that still run in this whole mess, that's 10-12 people depending, and they won't slow down an Arrow. We get two more in towing shape and we're set. The bus thing, the more I think about it, the more it seems like a hog on ice.
Don't get me wrong, the cars we tow are ours, but these folks are keeping most of the food. I send Tin Girl around to scout for any stuff she thinks would be exciting to keep. Belka's on chain duty. Hachiko and Ace on lookout.
Rainey and me confab a bit - what we think the best loot in the camp came down to, if we think they cached anything, whether we think these people are better off at SafeCo or Pike - I'm thinkin' Pike.
I move up to put a hand on Joey's shoulder, then turn him toward his mother. "Go help out wherever you can, Cadet. Probably put the kids at ease if you help organize them. Your mother and I will be right behind." When he leaves, I turn to Laika. "You still okay with this, Laika?I'm proud of the boy, but I figure it must be hard for a mother."
"Am I okay with it, SeaTac?" Laika asks calmly as the dry wind blows at her deep red hair, sometimes moving her bangs out of her eyes, other times covering them. "Zeus told me stories about a time when folks didn't lock their doors. When everybody had doctors and enough to eat." Her eyes drift over to her son, who is moving to another clump of bodies. "But now is now, and only the hard survive. You're doing what needs to be done. What I asked. If he died... I would, too." Her voice cracks a little, she turns her body a little, away from her sisters. "He's my boy. Just keep training him to survive, SeaTac."
Dog,
When you sort through the broken camp of decimated gang's holdings looking for something worth taking, roll+Sharp. On a hit, choose options. On a 7-9, choose two. On a 10+, choose three. (You can choose the same option multiple times)
- You find a barter worth of gear, ammo, or food (you detail)
- You find a recruit who will fight well for you (they have the tag +loyal)
- You find some valuable info on a local hold or situation (MC detail)
On a miss, still choose an option, but there's trouble attached.
I nod, reach out to put a hand on her shoulder, look in her eyes. Small bits of dry in a wet world. "He's doing great, Laika. I think he's a little lonely sometimes, not spending as much time with his friends. I guess lonely is something we all get used to, too, though."
I keep my eyes out, listen to the Arrows who have something to say about this or that in the camp..
Rolling Sharp; (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 6, 2. Total: 8)
Marking XP (2) and Choosing Recruit and Information!
Dog,
You've seen Tig before, Dog.
She's been riding with the Tax Patrol ever since they gobbled up her gang, the Ballipstix. She was second-in-command to an old Arrow who left to form up the Ballipstix. Who was that?
When you all rode in, Tig threw down her guns and hid in a wrecked car during the tumult. Now that things are settling down, she comes out and calls to you, "Good work, hated these soaking idiots. Dog... you got any need for a new hand?"
"Dog," Grunge calls out as she walks over to you and Rainey. "If all the raiders on the outskirts see the tax patrol checkpoints are down... they're gonna flood in here looking for easy pickings." Rainey nods, like that's a thing.
SeaTac,
Laika nods sadly at your statement about being lonely. "Well... you should let him see Ghost and Mox from time to time. I figure you know he has a crush on Ghost. What've you, ah, told him about that kind of stuff, SeaTac?" She peers at you for a moment before looking away to her Arrows to make sure all's good. She's listening, though.
I shrug. "Not much, yet... I can tell he's curious, though. I'll answer the best I can, and if he doesn't start asking, I'll... well, I'll bring it up somehow." I give her another look, when she gives her attention back. "Speaking of lonely... I'm wondering if it isn't time for us to find some time? We talked about that, I think."
I look over, spot Tig as she calls to me. I remember that face.
It was Chips who split when Nana passed away and formed her own outfit. She couldn't handle being passed over for Rainey when it came time to choose a new leader, so she peeled off herself with a couple of girls who hadn't fully made it. Year later, bam, Ballipstix on some grounders giving us shit, but not too much. Tig seemed smart and fierce, had Arrow makings. I'ma give her the business, see if she works out.
"Didn't feel like shootin' any of us, huh? I'll test you out. Do what I say, keep up, you'll be in." My grin's a mix of friendly and hard.
While Grunge talks I turn over a big old tire, look underneath it. I just kind of like big tires. You can do a lot with one, and more with a ton of 'em. "That..is a soakin' timely thought, Grunge. Feels like I can try and make that Admiral's problem, what with his shiny new wheeled-up gang. And we should get bailed outta here soonest." My leg yells at me as I stand up tall again. "I'd love to go get 'em but we're down another Arrow today and we all need rest."
Dog,
The Arrows, mostly Rainey and Hachiko, start organizing the Tax Patrol remnants into cars and setting tow lines and the like. Tig ends up working alongside Grunge and Belka. Where are you taking these folks?
SeaTac,
She looks at you for a long moment, eyes a squint in the wind, pondering. "Let's grab a drink at Yellowhouse tonight, after, she gestures at the mess of this place, "After this is all wrapped up. Dance a little, talk a little. Joey could stay at the infirmary, he'd like to see Mox, I'm sure.
You know, I think these people will have more food and work at Pike, and SafeCo is still all 'If you want BLOOD' about Tax Patrol. These people ain't Tax Patrol, but still. Shuddering Watauga comes to mind.
They'll go to Pike, and I'll send Rainey and Winn-Dixie to split off into SafeCo and let Admiral know about our success and the empty checkpoints. They can come get me if things get urgent or stupid after that.
We end scene with the Arrows and the last vestiges of the Tax Patrol heading to Pike, in cars and on bikes. Laika's bike hovering closer to SeaTac's jeep.