D9:LE:Weapons Range - Gotta keep it clean - Expecting

[Richard Winter]

Richard showed up at the armory. Of all the people on the ship who were whispering and fomenting rumors, there was one person not above him in the chain of command who had to know what had happened: Butcher.

Last night he had turned in his gun and his worn armor, now he would take care of it.

[John Slaktare]

Butcher was there in the range, performing maintenance on a heavy machine gun. He has part of it disassembled and is brushing it with a stiff bristle brush. There is a hint of oil in the air an a small rag there that seems to be the culprit.

"Hey," he says, giving a small wave.

[Richard Winter]

"Hey" Richard waved back. "I want to service my rifle and take a closer look at my flak armor, is that okay Gunnery Sergeant?"

[John Slaktare]

"Sure thing," he replies, picking up the trigger assembly which had been removed and dropping it in his pocket. "Gimme a moment."

He moves to the door to the armory and disappears into the room, and comes out with Richard's equipment a couple minutes later. He moves to the maintenance table he was at and sets the vest and rifle down where Richard would have easy access to the cleaning supplies John was using.

"She doing okay?" he asks.

[Richard Winter]

"Dropped her off at medical the second we arrived. I,..." Richard took the flak jacket first. "I hope she's recovering fast,...."

He looked at the spot on the right shoulder of the vest where the SMG bullets had hit him. If he had no metal on that part of his body and the ceramic plates had given way, he too would have a few holes in his body. Now there was only a big bruise.

Richard opened the vest and took out the plate, it had some cracks and would definitely break next time. "You've got some plates here?"

[John Slaktare]

"Yeah. Hand me that one, I'll put it with the spent ones and grab a new one for you," he says with a nod.

[Richard Winter]

Richard handed John the plate, nodded and looked at the rest of the vest. The contact point with the bullets would probably need stitches as well, but he would do that later.

[John Slaktare]

Disappearing and returning not long after, he holds a new plate for Richard. "It's good that you didn't go down too. Hope she gets better soon. You ever need backup with you, let me know. If there's someone that needs to have a bad day for what happened to Yori, I'm glad to help them with that."

[Richard Winter]

He gratefully accepted the plate, "I guess this old vest here saved my ass,..." he stuffed the plate into the vest. "Thanks John. I hope she gets better soon and I hope I don't need this again." Richard took a deep breath. "I'm not quite sure yet how the story continues, we know where the bunker is and that there is a mech waiting for us, but a lot is still unclear. If we move out again, I'll let you know."

[John Slaktare]

"Good," Butcher replies before moving back to the heavy machine gun. He pulls the trigger assembly from his pocket and gets back to cleaning it.

"So you found a mech and got shot at. Is it actually a mech we should be taking? Were they Lyran supporters?"

[Richard Winter]

"It was an exterminator, like it should be worth it.... as far as the woman is concerned..." he put his vest aside and picked up his rifle. "We didn't have time to talk to her for long..." He began to disassemble the rifle. "She said she was only on her side, but the way she fought and the fact of how the bunker was equipped.... I don't think anyone would just have a mech out in the middle of nowhere, the military wouldn't let that happen."

[John Slaktare]

He shrugs at that. "I mean, they mostly just have militia around here. Probably not anything they could do, since they probably never noticed," he says with a shrug.

"But if it was locked up in a bunker that someone else owns, that's kinda like breaking into someone's garage and stealing their car. You wanna make sure it's someone that you don't care about and won't cause too many problems if you piss em off."

[Richard Winter]

He smirked at the thought, "Well, if I park my car in a secret buker in a cave behind hidden doors, of course I have to ask myself what I'm trying to hide," he had unscrewed the barrel and was cleaning it, "Not that it makes a big difference what happened. It is now in the hands of the command."

[John Slaktare]

"Yeah. They'll figure it out," Butcher agrees.

He passes the snake tool and little cloth strips for cleaning the inside of the barrel. He then starts scrubbing little parts with the stiff bristle brush again.

"So, you know anything about the woman that shot the two of you?"

[Richard Winter]

"Thank you," he says, taking the tool and began cleaning the barrel thoroughly.
"She is the owner of the inn, has a rare mech under it with lots of weapons, rare mechparts and alot of treasures. She says her name is Hayley Burton and it's all 'private' to her, although that seems too unlikely to me."

[John Slaktare]

"I mean, she could be a former gladiator, or some runaway noble, or maybe got an inheritance from a family member," John day.

"Or maybe she used to be a raider. Gotta figure that all out before trying to take that mech. Would be a great find if she were a criminal or enemy operative though."

[Richard Winter]

Richard nodded. "That would've be best case. Just take it from the criminals. Makes it easy to justify."
He took the rifle barrel in front of his eye and pointed it in the direction of a lamp. "Clean enough" he mumbled.
"If she is not a criminal though, I may have created my first personal enemy"

[John Slaktare]

"I've got a few of them. Ain't a big deal. If I ever make my way back to Solaris I'll have to watch for a knife in the back," he says, apparently not bothered by that. His scrubbing continues on the tiny pieces of the receiver assembly.

[Richard Winter]

"In our line of work, I guess it's always a question of when rather than if." he put down the barrel and began to open the body of the rifle.

[John Slaktare]

" I don't know, I think most mercs and gladiators tend to have a professional respect. They ain't trying to be asses to each other. But sometimes you kill the wrong person and friends or family get an itch that they can only scratch with your head."