Case stepped into the Sink, the recycled air hummed with the steady vibration of the base's life support. He had already reviewed the mission parameters; the plan remained unchanged. A tight, four-man scouting party—Case, Milla, Kelly, and Lilly—would penetrate the Divide.
Milla was already waiting for him, standing near his living quarters. She had her helmet on, a sophisticated modification of the Chinese Stealth Suit design, repainted in the desert camouflage that had become their signature. Beside her sat a heavy industrial crate she had brought in earlier.
The crate sat near his bed, housing the newest iteration of the IACP—the Improved Elite Riot Gear. As he pried the lid open, the dull green matte finish of the armor plates caught the light, resting alongside the reinforced paddings, the high-tech helmet, and the iconic duster coat.
"I'll leave you here for now, don't really want to see you naked," Milla said, leaving the bedroom.
Case stripped down and pulled on the undersuit first. It was noticeably thicker than a standard riot gear undersuit, the aramid fibers densely woven with a network of micro-pipes. Several small, circular pumps were integrated into the fabric at the joints, ready to circulate cooling fluid to combat the Mojave's oppressive heat. Despite the internal complexity, it retained the rugged look of high-end tactical cargo pants.
With the base layer secured, he began the methodical process of attaching the hard-points. He strapped on the shoulder, forearm, and elbow protectors, followed by the heavy-duty thigh and knee plates.
From the outside, it still looked like an elite riot gear with extra thigh plates, but internally, it was an improvement for the user's comfort, with the air conditioning and the waste recycler connected to the camel pack in the back.
Optics: Calibrated.
Sensor Suite: Active.
Night Vision/Thermal: Active.
Vital Signs: Normal
Environmental Control: 25C
Waste Recycler: Online
"Right, it's done," Case said, his voice dropping into a low, mechanical baritone as the gas mask's seal engaged and the filters began to recycle the air.
He emerged from the bedroom, the heavy duster coat billowing slightly over the reinforced plating. He looked every bit the legendary Ranger, but with the sharp, polished edge of Big MT technology.
"Hot damn, Case," Milla commented, her eyes scanning the sleek lines of the MK IV-2. "You look as good as Jacob. Maybe even a little more intimidating."
"Yeah?" Case's muffled voice crackled through the external speakers. "Got my custom order ready?"
"The XM107? Yeah, it's right here," Milla said. She stepped toward the wall rack and heaved a massive, long-barreled weapon from its magnetic mounts.
It was the crown jewel of the Rangers' ballistics program. Case had provided the rough sketches based on his memories of the M107, but he'd left the internal physics to Emily and the Think Tank.
The result was a masterpiece of destructive engineering. It featured a proprietary hydraulic recoil-buffer system in the stock and a massive, multi-stage muzzle brake that allowed for rapid, semi-automatic fire—a feat normally impossible for a rifle chambered in .50 BMG.
"Ten-round magazine, steel-core rounds already loaded," Milla noted, handing the heavy rifle over. "The Think Tank added a smart-link to the scope. It'll feed range data and windage directly into your helmet's HUD."
Case raised the rifle, the weight of the heavy barrel steadying his breathing. The scope hummed to life, the crosshairs glowing a soft amber against the lens. He dialed the magnification through its range, finding the sweet spot between 5x and 14x—perfect for the mid-to-long-range engagements expected in the jagged canyons of the Divide.
In the rucksack that he prepared earlier, he carefully stowed the XM107. He rounded out his kit with a compact medical pouch stuffed with Stimpaks and a week's worth of "Green Salient" that could be turned into anything that he wanted with just a campfire.
He then grabbed the laser rifle near the rucksack, standard AER9 with improved barrel and emitter, allowing more efficiency for engagement. It would punch through any wastelander, and for large-ass armored enemies, he had the AMR.
"Alright, all sets, are the friends from the brotherhood ready?" Case asked.
"They're already waiting downstairs," Milla added, lifting up her rucksack from the ground.
The two stepped into the elevator, the heavy doors sliding shut with a pressurized hiss. As they descended, Case and Milla stood side-by-side, a study in contrast between long-range destruction and surgical stealth. Milla checked the slide on her suppressed 10mm pistol—a reliable backup—but her hand lingered on her primary: a 12.7mm submachine gun. The heavy-caliber weapon was a beast to handle, but with the Stealth Suit's recoil compensation, she could shred a target before they even registered a shimmer in the air.
Exiting the elevator, they emerged into the crisp, thin air of the X-2 facility. A section of the jagged hill had been excavated and leveled, converted into a reinforced helipad for their Vertibird.
And standing at the foot of the stairs to the Vertibird were Kelly and Lilly. The two former Brotherhood soldiers were unrecognizable, encased in the terrifying, insect-like silhouettes of the Enclave Advanced Power Armor.
They were walking tanks, and they were armed accordingly. Lilly hauled a heavy Gatling Laser, its focusing crystals humming with idle power. Kelly, however, carried the team's secret weapon: an experimental Gauss Gatling. It was a massive, multi-barreled monster of magnets and capacitors designed to fire 2mm electromagnetic slugs at a rate that put the old M2 Browning to shame.
"Nice of you two to join the party," Kelly's voice boomed through the APA's external speakers, the metallic timbre vibrating in the cold air.
"We were just admiring the view," Case replied, his own voice muffled by his mask. He looked at Gauss Gatling. "I see the Think Tank finally got the feed-system working on that monster."
The Gauss Gatling was a marvel of over-engineering. It utilized a massive 600-round drum—roughly the same size as a standard 200-round SAW box—to feed 2mm needle rounds into its electromagnetic rails. These needles left the barrels at velocities far exceeding a standard minigun, granting the weapon armor-piercing capabilities equivalent to a .50 BMG, though the surgical precision of the needles caused less hydrostatic shock to soft tissue compared to a lead slug. To keep the magnets humming and the barrels spinning, the entire assembly was powered by a conventional fusion core slotted into the housing.
Lilly and Kelly also wore specialized rucksacks bolted directly to their power armor frames. Case had instructed them to carry six spare drums and extra fusion cores to keep their heavy ordnance in the fight. Since they were the strongest members of the team, they also served as the primary pack mules, carrying the bulk of the mission supplies and the stash of caps needed for any potential bartering.
"What's the plan, boss?" Kelly's voice rang out, the metallic reverb of her APA helmet making her sound like a small tank.
"The transportalponder is going to drop us on the outskirts of Hopeville," Case explained, checking the charge on the device. "From there, we move in on foot. We just have to hope the local inhabitants don't open fire the second they see us."
"Sounds... reassuring," Kelly replied, her Gauss Gatling shifting with a heavy clatter as she adjusted her grip.
"Only one way to find out," Case said, pulling the transportalponder from its holster on his left thigh. The device hummed, its blue emitters beginning to glow with a haunting, rhythmic light. "Ready?"
The three of them nodded.
Case squeezed the trigger, and the world dissolved into a blinding flash of blue energy.