"The gun isn't needed," a woman to one side says. Her tone is strangely flat, a clear, cut-glass accent, and there's perhaps a hint of a mechanical whir as she shifts her weight. "Milliways is perfectly safe. And Security will take care of any trouble."

There's almost a question at the end - a wonder whether or not the newcomers are going to be the trouble. She is not visibly armed, but she holds herself like someone capable of a fight.

The first woman looks unimpressed, but holsters her gun all the same. "Nowhere is 'perfectly safe,'" she says. "And you look like you have all your teeth, so we're not in Goodneighbor, and maybe not in the Commonwealth anymore either. What's Milliways and what counts as trouble?"

"A reasonable assessment," Epimetheus agrees. "And you are almost certainly not in either of those places," the smile has a few too many of those teeth, and looks more like what somebody who'd never seen a smile might draw in place of one.

"Milliways is, as you might be able to tell, a bar. Time in your own world should currently be frozen. Until such a time as you choose to return to it. I would rather suggest keeping the weapon holstered. For your own good health." She holds up her hands. "Not a threat. Consider that a friendly warning."

Her tone hasn't wavered once, and her face is now almost too bland.

"Scaring the newcomers again, Epime?" a man practically bounds over, a bright grin on his face, clapping Epimetheus' shoulder. "Thought we agreed you weren't gonna do that no more?"

"Sir, assisting them in orienting themselves and ensuring Security does not have immediate cause for concern is hardly definable as 'scaring'."

"Need to fix that 'sir' thing," he mutters under his breath. "You're just angling for a job, aren't you?"

He doesn't wait for her response, turning back to the newcomers. "Anesidora, call me 'Sidora." He thrusts his hand out.

"Cat," she supplies, shaking his hand automatically. "And that's Hancock-" Who has wandered over to the bar, so she just waves a hand in his direction. "Time is frozen? Well, beats the other way around, I guess."

"Bar says the first drink's free!" Hancock says, sounding delighted.

"Do not blow all of our caps on booze," Cat tells him without looking away. "Blow all of your caps on booze.

"Where are you from, then? Capitol Wasteland or out West? If it's somewhere else, you'll have to just tell me, those are the only two post-war places I know and nobody knows what I mean if I say I was born in Maryland."

Hancock makes his way back to the group and slings a jovial arm around Cat's shoulders, hefting his glowing drink in his free hand. The gadget on her wrist begins to click rapidly, and at a pointed look from her he sets the drink down on a table several feet away. "Live a little," he teases.

"Neither?" 'Sidora says, face scrunching slightly. "But I do know Maryland. I mean, I don't know if you mean one of the cities, or the state, but I know that Maryland is a place. Multiple places technically." He seems to realise that he's rambling. "We mostly work outta Europe. And a few sites out in Africa."

Epimetheus meanwhile, is squinting at the glowing drink. "I rather think that if-" she pauses, staring silently. "If Miss Cat wishes to remain alive, she should probably avoid such a toxic drink. Which does raise a rather interesting question regarding your own state of being."

She holds her hand out, palm up, and the holograph of a man appears.

"An alt-earth if I have got it right," he says, carefully sizing up first Cat and then Hancock. "From the gear and weaponry I would posit post nuclear fallout. I cannot ascertain specifics on the gentleman. Radiation levels on them are inconsequential at this time. Though I would suggest that Anesidora remains a safe distance from the drink."

"Really need to fix that," 'Sidora grumbles. "You two using full name and 'Sir' is just creepy."

He turns back to Cat and Hancock. "These two are Epimetheus," he points at the girl, "and Prometheus," he points at the man in her hands. "I tend to listen to their advice. They're pretty good at very quick analysis and rationalization."

"It does not help your opinion that you are dreadful at the latter part of that, Sir," Epimetheus says smartly, before inclining her head sharply to Cat and Hancock. "A pleasure to meet you."

"By 'alt-earth' I take it that we're really not in the Commonwealth anymore," Cat realizes. She pauses, then shakes her head. "I was waiting for my suspension of disbelief to trip on that, but I think I've just started taking any weird-ass thing that happens to me at face value. You're right about the nukes, that was two hundred something years ago, it's 2287 now."

"I'm a ghoul," Hancock volunteers. "Comes with the, ah, makeover and radiation diet." He looks a little guarded as he says it, but detaches from Cat to take a swig of his drink and otherwise seems comfortable discussing the fact that he should be dead from radiation poisoning several times over.

Cat, who has been on the other side of the "what's a ghoul?" conversation, fills in the extra information before they can ask. "Ghouls are people who are super-irradiated, but for whatever reason they didn't die from it. Nobody really knows how it works but it's about 70 percent you just keel over, 20 you turn feral, and 10 you get to be a ghoul. Uh, there's probably some stuff I'm forgetting but whatever-"

"You don't die and you can walk around the Glowing Sea buck naked. That's pretty much it for benefits. What's Africa?"

"The big one on the other side of the world that doesn't have China," Cat tells him. "You - how do you not know what Africa is? I just sold like six globes to Daisy."

Hancock shrugs. "World geography hasn't been a major factor in my life so far," he deadpans.

"It's an entire con- never mind." She turns back to Epimetheus and Prometheus. "A much better question is, how are you doing that, is it portable, and how would you like to help us clear out a hospital full of super mutants? Paying work, since I don't think we're going to find a convenient mercenary with a Gunner problem in the back room of this place."

"Very much not," 'Sidora agrees. "Milliways is an interdimensional...well, kind of meeting place, as far as we've been able to ascertain. Doors appear for people, seemingly at random. Although Epime was suggesting that once you've had a door, it is more likely that you'll get another one. Or something like that. I tend to tune her out when she starts theorising." It's untrue, and his smirk says he's teasing more than anything.

"We would both rather you stopped purposefully obscuring your own intelligence," Prometheus says, almost sharply, before he's distracted by the information on ghouls. "Fascinating. So you have a feral and stable population of those affected by the radiation. Further radiation fails to have a detrimental effect, and apparently has benefits-"

"No," Epimetheus says firmly. "We agreed that we would not try and talk fellow bar patrons into acting as guinea pigs. No matter how fascinating their biology is."

Prometheus pouts, but stays obediently silent.

"Well, if it wasn't portable, I would hardly be capable of doing doing this, would I?" Epimetheus asks, and her tone should be arch, but it isn't. She tilts her hand slightly, the image of Prometheus flickering slightly as she does so. It reveals a series of tiny projectors embedded over her palm. "I could potentially see if it is feasible to build for yourselves. Or to at the very least provide some simulacrum that has similar functionality. There are, regrettably, certain mechanics that make this feasible for us. There is a reason that Prometheus is hovering over my hand."

Her unnerving not-smile is back at the comment about super-mutants. "Well, now. That is a thought. I have been so eager to exercise some of those protocols again."

"Congratulations, in one fell swoop, you've managed to capture Epime's attention, and whether you really wanted her assistance or not, you've probably got it. Epime, remember that that chassis is not built for extended combat."

Epimetheus turns to 'Sidora, a flatness to her expression that was not previously there "I am not the one who has trouble remembering these things, sir."

She turns back to Cat and Hancock. "I rather think we ought to sit down and discuss terms and what the potential payment will be."

She gestures to a nearby empty table.

Cat eyes the dynamic between the three of them and decides not to ask just yet. She is at least somewhat capable of realizing that not everything ever exists for her to stick her nose into. "Sure. I'd ask if you were a synth, but I don't think we even have the tech for that. Unless the Brotherhood of Assholes took it and I just don't know about it." She shakes her head. "Never mind. Yeah, lemme give you what I have on the place."

Hancock, meanwhile, is looking curiously at Prometheus. "Got nothing against being a guinea pig, long as it's not gonna hurt too much."

"You just like attention," Cat says.

"Yes I do," Hancock says without missing a beat.

"What about you?" Cat asks 'Sidora. "Any party tricks, while we're playing Show and Tell, here?"

"I am honestly offended," Prometheus raises the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. (Both 'Sidora and Epime roll their eyes.) "I would not be worth a thing as a scientist if I could not devise pain free methods to acquire the data on your good self that I am curious about."

"Please don't encourage 'Metheus," 'Sidora says cheerfully. "You'll never get rid of him. He's a rather single minded AI."

(Epime murmurs a somewhat reproving 'Sir', but otherwise stays silent.)

"Rather like one of Epime's cats actually. She fed them and they just didn't leave."

At the question, he blushes slightly. "Bog standard human I'm afraid."

"No-one has ever accused you of being 'standard', sir," Epimetheus says. "I think they mostly used the word 'atypical'."

"Well, look, I wouldn't be volunteering for a mad science experiment if I thought it was gonna go really wrong," Hancock points out. "But you're cute, so why not?"

"Join the club, I was born pre-war," Cat says to 'Sidora with a snort. "And I have a thing in my sinuses that lets me breathe underwater, but that was a fad when I was in college, not some kind of mutation. I get the feeling they're-" A nod at both AIs. "-not going to be happy if you come along. Though, come to think of it, d'you think this place sells Rad-X and not just drinks? I basically bought out the entirety of Goodneighbor and I don't think the human half is... all that pleased."

A pause, then: "Hancock, maybe wait until after we deal with the hospital? You can't hold a gun if I have to carry you around in a bucket."

Prometheus stares, unblinkingly (although why would a hologram need to blink?) at Hancock, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "Well, then. That is convenient..."

"Prometheus," Epimetheus' voice is sharp. "Behave. Business then curiosity."

"What Sir is failing to say," she adds flatly, "is that he is special operations trained, and black operations as well. While I would not be happy about him joining us, I certainly know better than to try and stop him. He is a solid man in a fire fight."

"Thank you for that glowing recommendation of my skillset," 'Sidora rolls his eyes. "And being able to breathe underwater sounds like it could actually come in handy."

He rattles his fingers against his thigh. "Hm, can't be any harm in asking, I suppose? And what is Rad-X?"

"Hey, you know which end of a gun does the shooting, we could always use more backup. Rad-X is... uh, well, I dunno what's in it, but it prevents radiation poisoning. RadAway helps deal with the symptoms, Med-X is a painkiller, and stimpaks do some kind of... accelerated healing, probably?" She fishes out examples of each as she names them; a bottle of pills, an IV bag, and two auto-injecting syringes, the second one bulkier than the first. "There's other chems but those are the ones I go through like candy."

She leaves her demonstration on the table in favor of striding over to the bar. There's a brief moment where she looks around for someone to talk to, then just shrugs and addresses the general vicinity. "Hey... Milliways? Do you just sell drinks, or other stuff too?"

A napkin appears in front of her on the bar's surface.

Just call me Bar. I sell almost everything from almost everywhere. You will have to be more specific. Then, as an afterthought, another napkin appears beside the first. But drinks are something of a specialty. First one's on the house.

Cat stares at the napkin, eyes wide, turning the words "almost everything" over in her mouth like she's no longer sure how to make the sounds. "Bar," she says, a little unsteadily, "just how many - dimensions - do you have access to?"

It would not be feasible to commit the number to paper.

"Well hot damn," she mutters, and spins around. "Okay! Fuck the hospital, who wants to help fix the world? As a bonus, it will probably involve significantly fewer people shooting at us."

"We tried fixing our world," 'Sidora's lost all of his cheer now. "It didn't work out how we anticipated." He smiles bitterly. "How we hoped."

Epimetheus rests her spare hand on his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. "I doubt our solution would be implementable in their world anyway, sir."

She turns back to them. "Perhaps start at the hospital? Baby steps and all that. If Bar can synthesize the required medication to assist in this endeavour we should be well set."

"I'd appreciate an opportunity to analyse your supplies if you do not mind? It may be that it would be helpful in our world." Prometheus stops, looking sideways at 'Sidora. "Perhaps."

"Hmm." Cat makes a face. "Something that cleans up radiation could still help."

"I need that," Hancock says mildly. "What's the thing the Children of Atom have? Maybe we can, ah, vaccinate everyone who wants to keep their noses."

"Bar-"

I believe I have something matching your specifications.

"How much is it?"

In the currency of its native realm, 625 ittri. In prewar money, roughly 3.8 million dollars. In bottle caps, twenty-five thousand for one dose.

"Well, fuck," Cat says, deflating. "So much for that quick fix. Fine, brass and gunpowder medicine it is. And yeah, sure, go for it," she tells Prometheus. "Actually-" She pulls her knife out of its sheath and sets it on the table. It's a nasty, jagged thing. "I'm interested if you get anything off that. It's called Kremvh's Tooth, found it on some kind of bad trip in a mine. It'll poison you if it cuts you but I've never actually loaded it with anything.

"The hospital is... uh." She pokes at the gadget on her wrist - a small computer, it looks like - for a second or two. "Okay, no, I remember, like three different people want me to clear the place out. There's a settlement nearby that wants it as a show of good faith, the Buckethood wants, like, MRI magnets, they need four but I'm only gonna get them one and stall on the other three forever because their giant death robot is sketchy as fuck, and there's supposed to be a Railroad cache somewhere in there but who knows if we'll find it. I've never been there before but I don't think it's far from Diamond City. Uh, super mutants! Big, green, ugly, not too bright. Kill them before they kill you. Their aim is shit but they hit like a fucking freight train if they can get one in on you. If one starts beeping, it's a suicider. So far my strategy has been 'run away while firing blindly over my shoulder until the beeping stops' but that's probably not super foolproof."

She twists her mouth to the side. "Wonder if we shouldn't bring Danse, he could probably tank a mini nuke...."

"He won't if I'm with you," Hancock reminds her. She sticks her tongue out at him.

"Fascinating," Prometheus says, eyes fixed on the knife. "Epimetheus-"

Epimetheus shifts slightly, and there's a definite click somewhere near her eyes.

"Thank you," he murmurs distractedly, and both of them fall silent, gazes not quite here.

"Well, they'll be distracted for a little while," 'Sidora says, smiling again now. "But probably taking in everything you say, regardless. I really envy their multitasking algorithms. Although that is a truly awful looking dagger. Sounds rather useful in a fight though."

"Can you extort...whatever your currency is out of them in return for what clearing the hospital? That seems like something you should consider." Meanwhile, he files away the information on what they'll be facing. "Note to self: don't get hit by them. Remind Epime regularly about the damage tolerances of that chassis."

"Epime makes a pretty good tank, even in this chassis," he reaches out and absently raps his fingers off her shoulder - which gives a hollow, metallic echo. Epimetheus doesn't appear to respond at first. "This 'Danse' have a problem with you, Hancock?"

Cat waves a hand. "Yeah - well, the settlement'll back us up later if we need it, and then we can use that land to store supplies, and I like to help fix up whatever I can around the place if I've got the time, so they're paying us in goodwill. Team Giant Death Robot probably wants me to do it for, I dunno, the 'good of the cause' or something but they can shove their cause up Danse's ass so his stick'll have company, and they're sitting on a mountain of tech that for some reason they're letting me walk away with because I'm nominally working for them. Suckers. If we can find the Railroad cache we get to keep whatever's in it."

"So... we're not actually making anything off this, are we?" Hancock says, after he's done snickering at the comment about Danse.

"It's super mutants near a settlement. I will buy everyone here noodles with the caps I get just from the people they've killed."

"Charming," Hancock mutters. "Anyway, no, Danse doesn't have a problem with me. The Brotherhood has a problem with ghouls. And synths. And the Children of Atom. And most robots. And anybody with tech better than two cans and some string. And maybe some household pets. If it's not vanilla human, they want it dead." He grins suddenly. "Which was pretty damn funny when we wandered up to their mothership."

"You pretended you were going to bite people," Cat says tiredly. She's trying not to smile, though.

"Yeah, and it was hilarious. I thought what's-his-face was gonna ask you to put me on a leash."

"We met Danse before I learned all this," Cat explains. "He and two others had gotten stranded in the Commonwealth, we helped them out of a tight spot. He's not a bad person, really, he just...." She sighs. "Needs management. But I've also seen him hold up under the wrong side of a rocket launch, so. He's good for something."

"Would that translate into a problem with Epime and 'Metheus?" 'Sidora's tone is fierce, protective. "If we encounter them that is."

At that point, a voice that belongs to neither Prometheus or Epimetheus rings put. "Analysis complete."

'Sidora waits a beat, hoping one of them will fill the void, before responding. "Report, please."

"Carbon steel composite," Prometheus reports. "Inexplicably and microscopically diamond edged. Impressive craftsmanship. I would love to pay my respects to the knifesmith who made this. And acquire some tips from them." He shakes his head. "It is truly spectacular work. The next bit even more so. The knife is crafted such that there are hollow pockets within it that appear to secrete, as needed, the poison of which you have mentioned. Epimetheus?"

"It is fascinating," Epimetheus says, and someone might get the impression that if she was more human, she would be bouncing. "Someone has managed to create a poison that self replicates, almost like a virus or bacteria. But without a potential epidemic or pandemic. Which, from what little you have mentioned of your society, and the information Bar has kindly provided me with, could be absolutely devastating. The poison has a shelf-life, and when one layer wears out, another replaces it through microscopic pores in the blade. It is spectacularly well engineered."

Her attention switches to Anesidora. "Sir, frankly, we have dealt with bigoted wastes of space before. We can deal with them again. In fact, we have an almost one hundred percent record of not introducing them to the benefits of hydraulically aided punches."

"Epime, the word you're looking for is 'assholes'. Bigoted assholes."

"Huh." Impressed, Cat picks up her knife and inspects it, as though she will be able to spot the mechanism Epime and 'Metheus are describing. "Not bad for the middle of nowhere."

"Nah," Hancock says to 'Sidora. "They're not even that interesting. Those Nuka-World raiders are assholes, the tin cans are just... bland."

"Thank you for your guided tour of the Commonwealth," Cat says, faintly amused, then adds to Epime with a growing grin, "I will pay you to punch out someone in full power armor. Please. I need that in my life." She sobers. "But trust me, if I didn't know I could handle them I wouldn't be taking anyone there. To be honest I kind of pity them. They're probably the most organized, safest, and healthiest group in the States - they're out West too - but they don't do anything with it, and they're a bag of dicks regardless. Ugh." She gestures to convey her frustration. "But. Hospital first. Then we can-" The same vaguely abortive gesture. "Stage a coup or something, I don't know. Give me a minute, I'll stock up on ammo and meds."

She turns and makes her way back to the bar to do so, leaving Hancock at the table. He finishes his drink.

"People who have a problem with my guys are assholes," 'Sidora states it like it's a fact.

"I am inclined to accept the local assessment, sir," Epimetheus says. "He knows them better. Besides that, we are not necessarily going to encounter them, and if we do, it is not necessarily required that we inform them of our status. Even if there are things that will give us away, we can minimise the risk."

"Request noted, and I will certainly endeavor to accommodate it if an opportunity to do so arises. Please do inform me if I appear to be liable to punch someone you require for diplomatic purposes."

Prometheus watches Cat leave. "She does realise that it is unlikely that Bar will provide ammo? Medical supplies and such like, yes, weaponry is a definite no, ammo is a potential grey area."

He mimics stretching for no apparent reason. "Well, I am going to get out of Epimetheus' circuits and into my own chassis. If we are going to be doing combat, I think it would be better to have both of us properly attired."

"I quite agree. And it will be delightful to have all my circuits back."

When Prometheus disappears, Epimetheus produces a pistol from somewhere, quickly checks it over and stows it away again, before doing the same with a variety of other arms - knives, spare ammo, another couple of guns. All the checks are perfunctory, as though she is already very aware that her weapons are in a good condition.

And true to Prometheus's prediction, Cat comes back with several industrial-sizes bottles and packs, no ammo, and a vaguely frustrated look. "Why can I never find .308s, I swear..." she mutters, not particularly coherently. She sees Epimetheus's weapons check and nods approvingly. "Good. The only spare weapons I have are two hundred years old. Is Prometheus coming, or...?"

"Yeah, he's just getting himself a bit better attired. One robotic chassis is good, two is better. He said he couldn't be bothered moving the chassis around today, so he left it in the room and piggybacked in Epime's circuits. Also, we find that some people aren't necessarily comfortable when they realise they're around two...effectively robots. Even if they are mostly human. Give him-"

"Right here, sir, ready to go."

His chassis is not quite as sturdy looking as Epimetheus', but it still looks like it would take a beating.

"Ready, sir," Epimetheus says certainly. "If you are sure?"

"Ready when you are, Cat. Hancock."

Cat gives the room and the people in it a final once-over. "All right."

The town square she leads them to barely deserves the name; it's just the immediate area outside a subway station, with some benches and a streetlight. The cement is filthy and cracked, and the windows of the opposing building are almost all broken. The scent of smoke is strong, from both cigarettes and a nearby campfire, though it's not visible. A few of the... guards (?) standing around eye the three newcomers with suspicion, but at a wave from Hancock they relax and redirect their attention.

"I'm not dumb enough to leave my stuff lying around in Goodneighbor, so I have it all with me," Cat says, consulting the screen on her wrist. "Looks like it's... just south of here. Probably ten minutes if nothing runs into us. We can talk strategy on the way."

Epimetheus looks back at the door behind them, watches it close, and there's a hint of sadness there, but then she nods sharply, and turns her attention to the environment around her.

The...guards give her pause, but Cat does not appear concerned, and Hancock diffuses any potential problem.

She tries to tap into any local systems to see if she can access a map of her own.

She won't find a map, but she will find several broadcasts scattered over a range of frequencies, most of them FM and a few of them apparently live. One is playing an inoffensive selection of classical music; one has a peppy marching tune looped with somebody inviting the listener to join the Minutemen and/or request their aid; one plays music from the 1940s or so, interspersed with a young, nervous man speaking on various current topics and tentatively exhorting the listener to try products from "our sponsors" every so often; the last one is broadcasting a noir radio play about some sort of vigilante and a lot of alliteration. There are a few other signals, but they're either too faint to pick up or garbled beyond recognition.

"Local signals are mostly radio broadcasts," she reports quietly. "No access to an area map, but I should be able to map the surrounding area as we go."

"Alright then," 'Sidora says, accepting the gun that Epime hands him, automatically checking it despite having seen her check it before they left Milliways. "Ten minutes south you say? Let's go then."

"You can try to get the map off my Pip-Boy if you want," Cat offers, holding out her arm. "By, uh... waving your fingers at it, I guess? I dunno how you'd do that. Never mind."

As they leave Goodneighbor, she checks the map again, then takes a look at their surroundings. A lot of the roadway is cluttered with rubble and debris, or has been turned into a wall, so that there's only really one way to go from what used to be a four way intersection. "I think we...." She squints at the map. "Okay, it's that way and then we have to kind of come around from the other side...."

Hancock, looking over her shoulder, points at something. "We can't go that way, that's Swan's Pond. Gotta go around like this but that shouldn't take much longer."

From somewhere out of sight, but still nearby, gunshots report and someone yells. Cat unholsters a long, heavily modified rifle that clearly started life as hunting equipment and listens, but doesn't seem too concerned.

Epimetheus quickly scans the thing on Cat's wrist and manages to find and extract the map. She shares it with Prometheus, and both of them seem to relax somewhat as they proceed. "I can scan local radio signals for broadcasts."

She and Prometheus fall in to either side of 'Sidora, both pulling out weapons the minute they're out of the settlement, holding them casually by their sides, but nevertheless ready to respond to a threat.

"I'm going to assume that swimming is probably not a good idea?" 'Sidora says lightly. "...Wait. Given we're in a post-nuclear world, how much of your water is actually safe?"

He flinches slightly at the gunshots (more startled than scared), brings his weapon up a second behind Epime and 'Metheus who both react before the sound could possibly have registered in normal human ears. He, however, relaxes quicker than them, giving Cat's rifle an appreciative look.

"Uh... enough?" hazards Cat. "There's cans of purified water around but mostly we just boil everything." She makes a face. "Thing I miss the most from before the war: food I didn't have to cook. Anyway, you'll take a couple rads from drinking water, but not much more than walking around."

"Swimming in Swan's Pond isn't a bad idea because of the pond," Hancock says. "It's a bad idea because of Swan. You ever fought forty super mutants at once? Neither have I, and look, I'm still breathing."

There's another flurry of gunshots, then a deep, growling voice calls out, "Here, human, human, human! I got a treat for you!"

"Fuck off!" someone else shouts. Presumably the human.

Cat listens, then shrugs. "Super mutants versus raiders, place your bets. We can avoid them pretty easily."

'Sidora nods thoughtfully, and makes a half-concealed hand-gesture at Epime and 'Metheus.

"Forty super mutants does seem...like an inadvisable course of actions," he agrees, although he's looking speculatively at Epime. "I wonder how many you could take out."

"As you have already mentioned, sir," she says, her tone almost managing to be arch, "this chassis is not built for extended combat. I suspect forty super mutants at one time would be an impossible task."

"I'd still put good money on you getting a lot of them."

He frowns at the suggestion of avoiding them, and then seems to shake himself. "For the best, I suppose."

"Trust me, neither group will declare their everlasting gratitude for us if we save them from the other one," Cat says dryly. "C'mon."

It's tense and somewhat slow going, but if nothing interrupts them, they will eventually make it to a run-down, viscera-festooned version of the Boston Public Library. Cat freezes and drops into a crouch as a super mutant says loudly, "Hmm? A noise?"

The three strangers follow Cat's example immediately, Epimetheus shifting forward so that she is in front of the more squishy members of the party, and 'Prometheus because he is hanging back slightly. She's ducked down enough that it would be possible to shoot over her, but she's definitely put herself in the position to take any hand-to-hand combat first. She has raised her gun, waiting for the word, or an attack.

'Sidora makes a gesture to 'Metheus to watch their backs, the mechanical eyes are just that bit sharper than the average human. He looks to Cat for her call on what to do.

Cat is glancing between the mutant, her Pip-Boy, and the path they need to take.

"There's only three," she whispers. "You want a practice run?"

'Sidora looks at Epime first, and then back at 'Metheus. It would certainly be a good idea to get an idea of what they were going up against, and how easily Epime and 'Metheus could deal with it.

Epime doesn't respond, but 'Metheus indicates both of them and nods.

"Sounds like a plan," he agrees quietly. "Epime?"

She turns her head very slightly. And if no-one seems to indicate they're unready, she'll stand up, take a few steps sideways to be clear of the squishy members of the party and let out a shrill electronic whistle.

Well, that's one way to get their attention. The first super mutant starts running in her direction, the second jumps down from the scaffolding around the building, and the third stays put on the roof and starts peppering their general area with miscellaneous gunfire.

"I'm gonna eat your legs when you die, human!" one of them hollers.

Cat and Hancock both duck behind the stone railing that separates the plaza they're on from the walk-up to the library. It's better than nothing, anyway. Cat braces her rifle on the top of the railing and takes aim at the super mutant on the roof.

Epimetheus sets herself, and shifts to meet the mutant, firing two shots aimed at the knee - automatic targeting systems assisting to balance out their movements. She seems just as prepared to meet it hand-to-hand if she needs to.

'Metheus stays put where he is, gun leveled, but not yet firing, while 'Sidora ducks down beside Cat and Hancock, aiming a few shots at the one jumping down the scaffolding.

"Ares," he mutters, a soldier's prayer in the midst of battle, even at the start. "Strength and aim."

The first shot hits but doesn't seem to do anything. The second hits and the mutant's leg crumples under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He gets up almost immediately and scoops up a two-by-four, looking furious. "Suffer!"

The second seems to have enough brain cells to commit to a plan other than "run at it until it stops moving." In the shadows beneath the scaffolding, he evades the shots and returns fire, if clumsily.

Cat, admirably, doesn't flinch at the gun going off right next to her. Probably this is less desensitization and more that she has had it happen so often she is partially deaf. She spends another few seconds lining up her shot, then fires once.

"Ha. Headshot."

The mutant on the roof yells in pain, and concentrates his fire around the part of the plaza they're hiding behind.

"Oops."

"Perils of super mutants?" 'Sidora quips, grinning, a slightly manic grin, but almost delighted. "Hadn't realised how much I missed this. 'Metheus, how'd you think our friend over there would take having the scaffolding dropped on his head?"

"Excellent idea, sir," Prometheus declares. He produces two circular discs about the size of his palm, presses something, and skims them, one after the other at opposite corners the scaffolding on either side of the mutant.

He then turns his attention briefly to the mutant on the roof, and returns fire in short, controlled, well-aimed bursts

Epimetheus surges forward when the mutant picks up the two by four, ignoring its attempts at intimidation. She grabs the makeshift weapon, fingers splintering the wood. She shoves her gun towards its face firing another two shots.

It dies with a gurgling scream and an unpleasant crunching of bone. One down, two to go.

The mutant under the scaffolding sees it and howls in rage. "You killed my brother!" He redirects to fire at Epimetheus instead - still not very accurately, but generally it only takes one bullet to kill a human.

There's an inarticulate noise from the roof and the already-injured mutant stumbles back from the edge. "You pay for that!" he yells. He doesn't sound incredibly confident of that, though.

Cat mumbles some curses as she loses sight of her target, and quickly switches to the surviving mutant on the ground.

Epimetheus has turned her attention to the mutant on the ground as well, and is weaving her way towards him. (Occasionally, there is a metallic ping from her vicinity, presumably bullets hitting their mark, but it doesn't seem to impede her.)

Just as she dives under the scaffolding the two charges go off. She doesn't pull her dive, just aims straight for the mutant.

"You did tell her the scaff was coming down, didn't you, 'Metheus?" 'Sidora is squinting at the top of the building.

"She confirmed," Prometheus says. "Any suggestions on luring our target on the roof back into gun range?"

Cat pulls a grenade out of her pack, arms it, and chucks it onto the roof. There's a pause, an explosion, a yell, and the mutant falls off the roof to land with a thud on the concrete. He's dazed, but amazingly, not dead yet.

'Sidora makes an approving sound. "It has a certain direct charm," he agrees. "Those things are tough. 'Metheus?"

"Must I?" Prometheus gives a slightly-fake sigh, even as he moves past them, vaulting the wall. He advances on the stunned mutant, firing three shots as he goes - two in the head, one in the chest. He seems perfectly ready to go hand-to-hand if so required.

The first shot cracks the mutant's helmet in two; the second splits his skull. The third is probably unnecessary, but either way, he doesn't get up again.

The pile of plywood and steel where the scaffolding used to be suddenly erupts. The collapse doesn't seem to have done anything to the surviving mutant except annoy him, and now he's got a length of metal pipe as a weapon. He swings it wildly at either where Epimetheus is or his best guess for her location.

Cat isn't suicidal enough to come out from behind the wall, and from what she's seen of Epimetheus, the robot can handle herself. Still, she fires two shots at the mutant: one misses and the other embeds itself in the forearm of his off hand.

Prometheus adjusts his aim, fires at the last remaining mutant. "Apparently they can survive having scaffolding dropped on them," he reports over his shoulder.

"So not the time, 'Metheus," 'Sidora calls, but he's chuckling.

From a little way to the left of where the mutant has guessed Epimetheus' location, the scaffolding moves, and a hand emerges, folding around a steel pipe.

Epimetheus pushes herself out of the wreckage, looking a little bit battered, but mostly in one piece (her left arm appears to be hanging at an odd angle, but still relatively functional). She adjusts her grip on the pipe and drives it towards the mutant's chest.

Either Prometheus's bullet missed or the super mutant simply doesn't care that it hit him. He is not, however, prepared for the sudden surge of metal and violence to his left, and barely twists out of the way in time to avoid being impaled. The pipe glances off his shoulder instead, and his arm suddenly hangs limp - the right, as if he is a weird reflection of Epimetheus. He bellows in pain and rage and lifts his own metal pipe over his head to bring it crashing down on his assailant.

Epimetheus spins the pipe like a baton, and brings it up to defend her head, crouching slightly. In an astounding feat of balance, she lashes out at one of the mutant's knees with her heel - which appears to sprout a knife as she kicks.

Prometheus meanwhile, is advancing again, firing when he has a clear shot at exposed limbs and critical organs.

Tough as super mutants are, even they can't shrug off a knife to the kneecap and several new lung perforations. The brute collapses to the ground, hitting his head hard on the brick of the building. He makes an involuntary groaning noise and tries to get up, but he can't seem to coordinate his limbs. Even if all they do is stare at him, he's not going to survive the fight.

"Goddammit," says Hancock, exasperated. "I didn't get to do anything."

"It's not my fault you like shotguns," Cat mutters at him. He mock-glares at her.

Epimetheus straightens, and looks down at the mutant. She is still for a second, and then drives the pipe still in her hand through his head.

"Clear, sir," she reports, scanning the area.

"Thank you, Epime," he says. He looks over at Hancock. "Sorry 'bout that. My squad often had that complaint when these guys did...well. What they just did?"

"I do apologise," Prometheus says, apparently sincerely. "We can leave something to do next time if you so wish?"

He's beside Epimetheus at this point, apparently doing the fiddly work to get her arm reattached again.

"Uh," says Hancock, and looks at the pipe through the mutant's head. "No, you know what, I'm good."

Cat snorts. "Don't worry, I'll save you one at the hospital," she says, amused. Now that the danger's over, she stands from her crouch and approaches one of the nearby... blobs of meat. It's unrecognizable as having previously been from any given animal, human or otherwise. She undoes the chain net holding it together and starts rooting around in the mess, without any apparent discomfort or disgust.

Neither of the AIs respond, with even odds on that being because it doesn't register as a problem, them carefully controlling their response to it, and them being distracted fixing Epimetheus' arm.

'Sidora is doing an admirable job hiding his disgust. Which seems to be more to do with the amorphous mass of meat than what Cat is doing.

"I...trust you don't need a hand relieving the...corpses of their valuables?" he asks.

Cat shrugs. "I dunno if these still count as corpses, but super mutants don't carry much. No pockets. You can see if their ammo's any good, if you want to make it go quicker."

Hancock, meanwhile, is glancing between the three newcomers incredulously. "Are all of you just pretending this is normal, or am I actually the only sane person here? Because that?" He points at Cat, who's in the process of extracting several bottle caps and a mostly-empty pistol magazine from the gore and wiping most of the blood off on her pants. "That's not normal. There's something wrong with you."

Cat scoffs. "There's a lot wrong with me," she quips. "Go look in that one, I have like a dozen .308s left, they can't all have come in here with peashooters."

"Fair," 'Sidora agrees. And he grimaces, but he crosses to one of the others hunks of meat and starts rooting through it.

"I wouldn't necessarily say normal, but you gotta do what you gotta do."

He pulls a handful of cartridges out, but can't, immediately, identify it. "'Metheus?" he says, tossing one over.

Prometheus catches it, and gives it the most cursory of looks. ".308 callibre," he reports, throwing it back.

He gives Hancock a curious look. "Well, they have resources you require? They do not need it?"

"While we have never had to raid such...unidentifiable bodies, when you are behind enemy lines, and running low on weapon and ammos, sometimes your opponents corpses are the only thing that you have to provide supplies."

"I've got about another dozen .308s here for you, Cat. No idea what it was shooting it out of, but..."

"Oh, I won't argue with that," Hancock says. "But usually the corpses are... corpse-shaped." Despite his complaints, he's also found a net of meat to poke through, this one hanging off the side of a telephone pole. "There's a lot of weird shit in the Commonwealth." He comes up with what looks like an inhaler, a handful of shotgun shells, and a blood-soaked pack of cigarettes, the last of which he tosses off to the side as useless.

"Thanks," Cat tells 'Sidora, blithely ignoring Hancock's commentary. She takes the cartridges and slots them away with her other spare ammo, offering him the 10mm bullets in return. "Let's finish up and get a move on before the ones in the library buy a vowel." Between them, they've more or less covered the... larger piles of blood and gunk. "There'll be a lot more in the hospital."

"It helps for myself and Prometheus that we can dull reactions to adverse stimuli if the reaction exists at all. Sir is simply adept at doing things he dislikes with minimal fuss."

"Comes with the military lifestyle," 'Sidora says with a grin. He takes the bullets with a nod of thanks. "Buy a vowel?"

"Onwards to the hospital then?"

Cat slings her gun over her shoulder. "Oh, god, okay, so there used to be this TV show - TV is like radio but it does video - that was old even when - hell, when my mom was watching. You had to guess a certain word and if you got it right you got points, and then you could use those points to make it easier for yourself or to win things at the end. So 'buy a vowel' means, like, to get a clue, to realize something's going on, because usually if you bought a vowel with your points you could get the rest of the word. I have literally never heard anyone else use this phrase, I don't know why Mom did all the time." As she talks, she starts walking in the right direction.

"We do still have TV," he says, chuckling. "But good description." He falls in beside Cat, eyes scanning the area. (Behind them, 'Metheus and Epime seem to be keeping an eye on their rear.) "Ah, that makes sense I guess?"

He thinks for a moment. "What's the plan then? Any idea what the terrain's likely to be in this hospital?"

"We don't," she points out. "Terrain is... there's gonna be a floor? And walls? I dunno, it's a hospital and there's super mutants, it'll look like someone put an operating room in a blender and forgot the lid."

"Terrain can also refer to the general environment we are intending to enter. The more we know about the layout, the less risk there is. We can, however, work without. The question is whether we stay as a unit or potentially separate to cover more ground faster."

"Not so much less risk as the ability to choose a place that suits us for fighting in. Like finding choke points, make it hard for large numbers to get at us and pick them off that way. And I'm not entirely sure splitting up is a good idea, Epime. Given how much punishment these guys seem able to take."

"Oh. In that case I do technically have a map of it, but it'll be pre-war and I can only look at it once we're actually there. Limits of this thing," she adds, indicating her Pip-Boy. "They'll probably have blocked off all but one entrance, if they've been there for a while. They're dumb but they're not oblivious, and they like hunting humans." She chews her lip for a second. "We can always sweep through and then split up to look for the stuff. Odds are, there'll be a pretty linear path through the place."

"That will at least give us a general idea of the layout," Prometheus says, "Even if it has been somewhat altered. I am almost certain that even in this chassis, Epimetheus has something in her arsenal that can make doors if it is so required."

"If it is not a load-bearing wall, yes," Epimetheus agrees. "And we should probably avoid splitting up until we are sure that it is relatively safe to do so. Will they be smart enough to leave a guard on the door?"

Cat shrugs. "Maybe? Usually there's at least a few of them outside, but they never seem to try and alert the ones inside, so I don't really know what that's about."

"It's not like it would change much if they did," Hancock points out. "There's not, like, a super mutant school of little super mutant kids that would all go shelter in place or something."

Cat grimaces. "Thank you for that delightful visual."

"No problem."

The road is blocked with a pile of debris, most of it chunks of the road itself. It's large enough that they can't see over it, but not sheer, and when Cat checks her map they're supposed to go straight ahead. She picks a likely-looking spot and starts heaving herself up and over it.

Prometheus crosses over and braces himself against the wall. "Perhaps make use of the friendly robot to get yourself up sheer surfaces," he says lightly.

'Sidora literally facepalms. "'Metheus," he groans. "Although he does have a point, why make life any harder than it has to be?"

"We up and over then?" he checks and Epime crosses to brace herself next to 'Metheus.

Cat's already rolled herself onto the top of the rubble, but Hancock smirks and braces a hand on 'Metheus's shoulder. "Don't mind if I do."

"You're cooking tonight," Cat says casually.

"Man-!"

"...Is there a reason you're forcing Hancock into cooking?" 'Sidora asks, letting Epime boost him up onto the top of the rubble.

(Once Hancock's up, Epime will boost 'Metheus up and then with some help from her fellow AI haul herself up.)

They stay low once they're up. Ahead of them is an empty road.

"There appears to be a structure of some sorts that was probably a parking garage," Epimetheus reports quietly. "I am...not seeing any hostiles."

"'Cause she doesn't want to see us fuck," Hancock says, and hops down to the other side of the pile. Cat makes a quiet noise somewhere between resignation and exasperation. "Also I'm better at it than her."

"I'm used to ingredients that I didn't personally see walking around, thanks," she snarks back at him as she follows. There's no heat to the exchange.

Prometheus gives something close to a grin. "I cannot imagine it would be comfortable." It sounds almost teasing.

"That is not an image I needed, thanks guys," 'Sidora says as he follows Cat and Hancock down. "And frankly, if it's hot and not poisoned, I'll probably eat it."

He's grinning at the exchange, comfortable around people who snark as a primary form of communication.

Epimetheus drops down and moves forward to take point again, still looking back at Cat for direction, but preferring to be between the humans and harm.

"You must not have a very active imagination," says Hancock, who is both leering and flirting blatantly.

Cat rolls her eyes and checks the map again. "I think this is the parking garage for the hospital.... If we go through it we should hit the front of the building." She points forward and to the right a ways. "There might be some ferals still in there, but I kind of doubt it. Anything with more than two brain cells to rub together either can't or doesn't coexist with super mutants."

"I can take point for the ferals," Hancock suggests, now paying attention. "There's always a few under cars or whatever."

"We are not having that discussion," Epimetheus says firmly, although it's clearly aimed more at Anesidora and Prometheus.

She compares her own copy of the map to what Cat is saying. She nods slightly to Anesidora.

"I rather imagine nothing with more than two braincells would want to coexist with those things," 'Sidora says with a grimace. "And I think we're perfectly willing to let an expert on the matter go first."

Both Wastelanders snort, though in response to different things. Cat hands her mean dagger to Hancock, who exchanges it for all but one of his shotgun shells and strolls off into the concrete structure.

He disappears from view, and shortly, there's a loud, single gunshot. Cat doesn't look worried.

Epimetheus is watching after Hancock, a metallic replica of a clicking tongue echoing from her mouth. Neither her nor Prometheus jump at the gunshot (Anesidora does, but barely).

"My assumption is that ferals are incapable of using guns, although I should query that assumption as assuming anything is a very rapid way of making a fool of yourself."

Cat shrugs. "Never seen one do it, anyway. They pretty much just go, 'Argh,' and throw themselves at you. Unless you're already a ghoul, in which case they just ignore you, even if you're walking around stabbing them to death systematically." She gestures vaguely; it's clear Hancock is doing just that. "Who knows why."

"Well, if they are lacking in intelligence due to the mutation the radiation has caused, they may be resorting to a more pack-like behaviour. And if they are relying on senses that indicate whether the person near them is a ghoul or not, rather than intelligence to identify whether or not that person is a threat, it is entirely possible that they do not register the threat of being stabbed to death?"

'Sidora snorts, and Epime shakes her head.

"So, how do we know we're clear?" 'Sidora asks, looking around for something to perch on in the meantime.

Hancock comes back into view, the dagger and half of one pant leg smeared with thick, dark blood and traces of something green and glowing. He waves at them from a distance, then waits for them to catch up.

"That was fast," Cat comments.

"Only a couple of 'em," he explains, and hands over her dagger. She makes a face and wipes the ichor off on her thigh before sheathing it. "Third one was a Glowing One, though. 'Cause nothing says 'hospital' like barrels of radioactive waste in the parking lot." He starts leading the way to the front of the building.

"Glowing One?" Prometheus asks, head tilting. "I assume a...different variety of ghoul?"

"Yeah," Cat says absently, as she redistributes the appropriate ammunition between herself and Hancock. "They're, like, walking radiation."

Hancock points to the side. "There's that one."

To their left is a prone humanoid form, which is indeed glowing a sickly green. A pool of what is presumably blood, a darker shade of the same color, has collected underneath it. Cat makes sure to give it a wide berth, even though the group is already several yards away.

Epimetheus carefully shepherds Anesidora more towards Cat, eyeing the glowing corpse.

"Scans only," she tells Prometheus. "No samples."

(Prometheus whines.)

"Well, if the car park has been cleared of potential hostiles, let us continue on our way to the hospital. I must admit that the previous fight reminded me just how much I had missed my primary purpose."

Cat glances over at the comment. "Yeah? Guess it's different if you're programmed that way."

"I suppose it is," Epimetheus agrees. "I do not mean to belittle how dangerous your lives are, or how skilled you are at surviving and fighting. It is simply very strange being an AGI created for the purpose of war, in a world where wars no longer exist."

"Epime," 'Sidora murmurs, "You were more than that."

He shakes his head. "Regardless, we did come here with the purpose of clearing this hospital out. Doesn't seem to be much purpose in delaying."

"I mean, technically we don't have wars anymore either," Cat says ruefully. "Not enough people. But hey, if you like killing things, have I got some good news for you."

They've reached the other end of the proto-building at this point, and the hospital is right in front of them. Despite the sign having fallen down sometime in the intervening centuries, it's still easily recognizable as a super mutant lair, given their, er... taste in home decor. Two mutants are sitting on the steps, throwing pebbles at each other, apparently for lack of anything else to do. As long as the group stays in the shadow of the garage, they're unlikely to be seen, but the stretch of road between the two buildings is both bare and brightly lit in the afternoon sun.

Epimetheus is somewhat tellingly silent.

"It's not exactly about enjoying killing," 'Sidora explains after giving her a quick look. "It's about enjoying figuring out the best way to win the fight. In this case, leaving super mutants alive did not seem like a wise move."

"Do you wish to attempt sniping them again?" Prometheus asks Cat politely. "Or would you like myself and Epimetheus to run distraction to get you a better angle for attacking them?"

Cat gives Epime a considering glance, pauses, then says, "Yeah, super mutants don't really do 'peaceful surrender' so much." It's deliberately beside the point. Hancock watches the exchange but doesn't say anything.

At Prometheus's question, she unslings her hunting rifle. "Is everyone here short- or medium-range except for me?"

"I am capable of long range, but currently lack an appropriate weapon," Epimetheus says. "This chassis was not, as Sir has pointed out, truly intended for combat."

"It was not something I ever felt the need to ensure I was capable of, I was rarely not functioning with a unit that had a long-range specialist."

"I never quite got the hang of sniping," 'Sidora admits cheerfully. "Like 'Metheus says, there was always a long-range specialist with our units. Frequently for me it was Epime."

"Okay, so then... why don't you all hide around the corner there?" She points. "And then I'll snipe one of 'em from back there, and when they run in you can ambush them, or whichever one is still alive, anyway."

"Good plan," 'Sidora agrees, Epime and 'Metheus already moving to conceal themselves.

"I miss my camouflage," Epimetheus murmurs quietly as she moves.

Cat jogs back up the access ramp, then checks to make sure the others (including Hancock) are out of sight. Seeing that they are, she kneels, checks the clip in her rifle, and aims carefully. The gunshot echoes over the concrete.

"One on the way!" She chambers another round and fires, less precisely than before. "Fucking-!"

Prometheus is out of sight, but loitering closer to Cat than the others, ready to intercept any attack that gets past the other three.

'Sidora is crouched just behind Epime - he may not be good at long-range, but he knows that he's not as durable as Epime is. He glances at Hancock, to check he's ready.

Epimetheus is focusing on their targets, waiting for precisely the right moment to spring their ambush for maximum efficacy. (She's running calculations, and has a silent countdown ongoing.)

There's one single, strange beat where nothing happens, and then an eight-foot-tall, already-bloodied, howling super mutant comes charging directly at Cat. He's not fast, but he's got momentum.

Cat's eyes widen and she falls on her butt, frantically fumbling with her gun. The sniper's about to be useless; she drops it and goes for the shotgun on her back.

Epimetheus slams into the mutant's side, arms wrapping and driving through, aiming to put it on the ground.

She can't quite bowl him over, but he's not expecting the impact, and it fouls his stride enough to send them crashing to the ground. He rolls to the side immediately to try and shake her off, or, failing that, crush her under him. 

Epimetheus lets herself be shaken off, better that than taking crush damage. She rolls a few times, and then manages to pivot herself to her knees. One hand moves smoothly down to her thigh and she pulls out a gun again, pointing it at the mutant, but hesitating somewhat - she would prefer not to waste ammo.

Prometheus shifts back closer to Cat to give her time to get herself back to her feet.

'Sidora has his own gun pointed at the mutant Epime just took down, but he's also watching the direction it came from, wondering if they're likely to have more company.

Cat gets her balance back, but doesn't do much else. The mutant's too close for her sniper and too far for her shotgun, and anyway, she doesn't want to risk hitting Epimetheus. She does double-check that the shotgun is, in fact, loaded.

The mutant scrambles to his feet and rushes at Epime, mistaking her hesitancy for fear. That, or he's so enraged at this point that he'll charge at anything that moves, and he doesn't seem to even notice that he's switched targets.

Well then. Epimetheus will shoot the mutant, aiming for his head, before pivoting herself to her feet, taking herself out of the immediate line of fire, well prepared to shoot again, or move again if his reflexes prove good enough to track and follow her.

The bullet cracks across his cheekbone, and that slows him down, but it doesn't stop him. His reflexes, on the other hand, are pretty much absent. Blinded by blood and adrenaline, he swipes clumsily at the spot Epimetheus used to occupy.

Epimetheus watches him swipe lazily at where she used to be for half a second. Then she steps forward, a knife extending from her wrist this time (she appears to have a lot of knives built into this chassis), and attempts to drive that up through the back of his neck, aiming to sever his spine and pierce whatever is passing for grey matter in his skull.

'Sidora winces slightly and swears under his breath. "Be careful," he mutters under his breath. "They might actually break you."

They might, but this one won't. He makes a weird noise and falls forward. If he was still alive, he'd probably care that the impact flattens his nose.

"Nice," Cat says, getting to her feet and dusting off her pants - presumably out of habit, since they're already covered in filth and none of it comes off at the motion. "Let's see how many are inside." As she passes, she nudges the dead super mutant with her foot, just long enough to see there's nothing of value on him.

Fight over, 'Sidora takes a moment to repeat what he had been muttering directly to Epime as they follow.

She rolls her eyes, but nods, and promises to be more careful, apparently sincerely. That over, she speeds up ever so slightly to fall in slightly behind Cat to her right.

Prometheus stays next to Anesidora as they advance.

Hancock looks at the group for a second, then wanders off in vaguely the same general direction and starts poking at one of the meat bags, trying to see if there's anything good in it.

Cat stops when she gets to the body of the first mutant. She'd caught it right at the base of the skull, and a spray of gore indicates the trajectory of the bullet. The body is slumped forward; he'd died instantly. Cat pokes at it, same as the last one, and is rewarded with a pipe gun and thirteen .38s. She tosses the gun to the side after emptying it; it's about as sturdy as it looks. "Anybody use these?"

"I have a revolver that will take them," Prometheus says, holding up said revolver, although he is also watching Hancock, and around him, for any risk.

She hands them over as Hancock straightens up.

"Hey, check it out." He's holding three discs in his hands, each slightly larger and thicker than his palm. "Two cap mines and a frag."

Cat pauses, then turns to Prometheus. "You don't have any more of those explosives like you put on the scaffolding, do you?"

"Explosives certainly seem like they would be useful," Prometheus agrees, moving towards Hancock slight to automatically scan the ordinances he's produced.

"Yes," he says in response to Cat's question. "I believe I have three remaining. Epimetheus?"

"You should have three remaining," Epimetheus agrees. "I have a further five."

"Walking arsenal," 'Sidora accuses the two of them fondly. "Epime's war chassis is insane the amount of ordinance it carries," he says, almost absently, to Cat and Hancock.

"Well aren't you handy," Cat says approvingly. "I guess the real question is how badly we want that Railroad cache, because if the answer is 'not that bad,' we could just bring the building down on them. Be a lot faster."

"What about the magnet thing?" Hancock says.

Cat makes an exaggerated "innocent" face. "Oops," she says, with zero remorse whatsoever.

"Pros and cons?" 'Sidora asks tilting his head. "What exactly do you get from this cache that is potentially not outweighed by the fact that we'd face potential death via supermutant? I mean, I think that's a pretty low likelihood, but should be mentioned?"

Epimetheus, meanwhile, appears to be looking at the main hospital building speculatively, as though actually planning how to bring it down.

"Uh... probably ordinance?" Cat guesses. "I don't know for sure, I heard it from a guy who heard it from a guy. You'd think that means they made it up, but the Wasteland grapevine is surprisingly accurate. Maybe some clean water, prewar food, chems, stuff like that. Maybe a Fat Man or some mini-nukes but all I do with those is sell them. Too heavy to lug around."

"And just how much would you expect to make from those sales?" 'Sidora asks - more out of curiosity than anything else. He doesn't seem surprised by the Intel system they're using.

"There is one other point to consider," Epimetheus says, still watching the building. "The need to get explosives onto internal load bearing walls. I doubt that blowing the external walls will take down the entire complex, and I rather think that for the sake of safety and surety that we will not have to deal with supermutants we would want a more thorough collapse than the external walls might provide."

"Oh," says Cat. "I didn't think of that." Hancock laughs quietly, and she makes a face at him, then looks back down at the mines, then back at the hospital. "You know what...? There's only one way in or out of there."

"Are we going in, or are we bringing down the entrance?" Epimetheus asks, tilting her head.

Cat snags the mines from Hancock. "Neither. I'm betting that if we make a loud enough noise and present a convincing enough target, we can get a good chunk of them to come out here. And since we know where they have to walk to do that...." She brandishes one of the mines.

Epimetheus gives a smile that has too many teeth and is a tad too wide and unnatural to be entirely comfortable to look at.

"I like the way you think," she says.

"I believe our explosives are slightly lower yield. More in-line with grenades than mines. I believe perhaps combining a few to provide the most effective explosion to take it as many as possible..."

"More than one trigger point. But we do not want it too spread out... They are somewhat too resilient to risk it. The next question is drawing them out..."

Cat grins and affects a limp. "Oh no," she deadpans. "Look at me, the poor injured human. I am terrified and cannot run away. Someone had better come and stomp on me." She straightens. "Or we could throw a rock through the window."

"We'll need to mark a safe way past the explosives if we're going with luring them out by playing bait..." 'Sidora muses thoughtfully. "And...I don't think we can risk having them jump out the windows." He squints at the windows. "Even if them fitting through those is unlikely."

Epimetheus sheds her jacket and holds it out. "It is not like I actually need it to protect me from the cold. I am reluctant to allow one of you to play bait, but unfortunately, I do not believe myself or Prometheus would be capable of adequately mimicking an injured human."

"We could always shoot you in the leg," Hancock says dryly, not at all serious.

Cat gives him a quick flat look and takes the jacket from Epimetheus. "I'm good with playing bait, but what do you want me to do with this?"

"You would be amazed at how well our limbs can stand up to the trauma of a bullet," Prometheus says brightly. "Although I have not in fact taken a shotgun blast to the knee...And then we would have to conceal broken wiring and..."

He does rather sound like he could continue listing reasons this is a bad idea for a while.

Epimetheus cuts him off. "The jacket is to mark a safe path once we've rigged the explosives. You'll know where to step. They won't."

"Won't I just be able to see the mines? Or, no, wait, you have different ordinances, I forgot." She folds up the jacket, puts it over her arm, and hands most of her gear off to Hancock, minus her shotgun and several shells. "Where do you want me?"

"There is fine for now," Epimetheus is almost distracted as her and Prometheus start setting the explosives. "Just watch where we set things so you know where is safe."

The two AGIs work in eerie synchronised silence until the explosives are set.

"Complete."

Cat tosses the jacket in the right direction, crouches down, and double checks that everyone else is a safe distance away.

Then she screams.

Nothing happens.

Cat runs out of air and rolls her eyes. "HELP!" she yells again, projecting her voice. "SOMEBODY HELP, PLEASE!"

Still nothing.

"What, did we find the world's only lair of deaf super mutants?" she grumbles, and shoots one of the mostly-intact windows by the door.

That, at least, gets a reaction, in the form of a commotion from inside the building. A super mutant bursts through the door and runs straight at Cat, followed by several more hot on his heels. The one in front is holding a football-sized object that's blinking red and beeping.

Cat's eyes widen. "Suicider!" she yells.

Epimetheus immediately dives out of her cover, twisting around to block Cat from any potential explosion.

"Epime-" 'Sidora starts to follow her, but 'Metheus jerks him back.

"Fire at them, sir," he says sharply, levelling his gun to do just that.

A half-second after Epime skids between Cat and the mutants, the suicider's foot connects with one of the mines. His lower half vanishes in a burst of shrapnel, and the mini-nuke detonates, engulfing three-quarters of the mutants, and a fair fraction of the mines, in a radioactive fireball.

The affected mines go off, triggered by the shock wave from the explosion. Cat and Epime are close enough to feel the intense heat and force from the blast. A few bits of debris ping off Epime's metal chassis, and one twisted shard of metal buries itself in the bottom of Cat's boot.

"Thanks," Cat says shakily.

Epimetheus doesn't respond, pivoting and immediately focusing on the remaining mutants. She pulls a dagger in one hand, and a gun in the other, and a dangerous glint in her metallic eyes.

"Epime!" 'Sidora complains, keeping his aim on the remaining mutants, trying to avoid aiming at his sister.

Of the four remaining mutants, three have been knocked off-balance by the explosion, and the fourth is several feet behind them, still in the shadow of the hospital entrance but gaining ground fast. The two that were nearest the blast have some lacerations on their faces, chests, and arms, but the damage is superficial. The one on the left seems like he'll be the fastest of them to reorient himself.

Epime charges directly at the one on the left, knife driving straight up towards the underneath of its chin, intent on driving it up and through the mutant's brain. The gun is pointed at the one who was still in the shadow of the hospital entrance, and a single shot is aimed centre mass.

The stab strikes true, catching the mutant just as he steadies himself. He makes a choked noise as the knife sinks home, the tip driving a hole in the bottom of his braincase but unable to do more than scrape at the organ within. He jerks his head to the side reflexively, trying to shake Epime loose.

Her shot at the fourth mutant connected, but he's wearing what could generously be called armor, so the force knocks him back a step but doesn't otherwise impair him. The other two regain their bearings and level their pipe rifles to fire at Epime.

Cat can't do much with just a shotgun besides reload it in case any of the mutants come closer. She does, and judges them distracted enough to try and sprint for the rest of the party (and her rifle).

Distracted, but not distracted enough. The two mutants not engaged by Epime swing around and follow Cat. They're heavier than her, but they have longer legs.

Epimetheus twists enough that she's shielded behind the mutant she just stabbed, pulling the knife clear and aiming it at the mutants eye. (She is aware of the two mutants charging at Cat, but cannot disengage from those she is fighting.)

Prometheus moves, going from a dead stand still to a sprint, at the last minute before colliding with one of the mutants, he twists into a skid, aiming at one of their legs. (His gun is in his hands, but he's aiming to save bullets for now, this is a delaying action, give Cat time to get herself in a better position.)

'Sidora fires two shots at the other mutant's knees, hoping that'll slow it down if nothing else.

Cat changes her angle so they have a clear shot, but keeps sprinting so she'll come around in a wide circle. She hears a bellow from behind her, but doesn't waste time looking.

The mutant Prometheus collided with goes down in a heap on top of him, struggling and flailing. He reaches blindly, trying to grab and crush whatever he can.

'Sidora's shots either don't connect or the mutant doesn't care. There's a loud crack, but in the chaos it's impossible to see what, if anything, he's hit. The mutant yells incoherently and fires a random spray of bullets in 'Sidora's direction in retaliation.

"Grah!" says the mutant with the knife in his eye and the hole in his lower jaw. It's drooling an unattractive mix of blood and phlegm, and strings of it fly out when he jerks back. Amazingly, he's still moving, even with a knife in the front of his head.

The unoccupied mutant rushes forward to tackle Epime. "You killed my brothers!" he wails, with very little apparent understanding of cause and effect. He's wearing brass knuckles, or more accurately a metal pole that's been beaten and reshaped to form something resembling them, on a super-mutant's scale. He aims a swing at her center of mass.

She twists just enough that it doesn't directly impact her, and uses the momentum gained from the punch to duck into a low kick that swipes the knife that springs from her boot heel at this mutant's ankles.

'Sidora pulls back into his cover, feels a bullet clip his shoulder, but it's nothing to worry about. He checks his clip while he's being forced to take cover.

Prometheus jams the gun into the mutant's gut, feeling something give way under it's flailing, and fires a single shot - hoping it will at the very least distract it for long enough for him to get the upper hand, or for someone else to dispatch it.

Cat redirects towards Hancock, who looks a little stymied but got Cat's gun ready to hand off to her instead of hovering uselessly. She skids to a stop - grabs it - aims at the mutant on top of Prometheus - fires.

The back of the mutant's head explodes into a spray of gore, and abruptly he slumps, becoming very literal dead weight.

The mutant with the knife in his head stumbles backwards, trips, and crashes to the ground. He'd managed to pull the knife out and blood is now pouring down his face and creating a large slick puddle on the ground.

Epime's boot-knife connects solidly with the mutant's calf; unfortunately this just means that his grab for her turns into an uncoordinated lunge. He does have the presence of mind to try and pin her with both hands, suggesting that he might have been the brains of the operation.

That leaves the fourth mutant, running lopsidedly but still on his feet, making a beeline for Cat, Hancock, and Sidora. Hancock, looking maybe a little too gleeful at getting in on the general violence, braces himself and his shotgun and fires both shells directly into the mutant's chest.

Well, even Prometheus' chassis is going to need either a little bit of time, or further assistance, to get the dead weight of the supermutant off him.

Epimetheus makes an angry, metallic sound, and tries to wrench herself clear of the supermutant's grip.

The supermutant has latched onto her forearm and refuses to let go. He jerks in the opposite direction, trying to use her to cushion his landing.

The mutant Hancock fired at is now flat on his back, briefly dazed, and the one with the ruined eye is only barely upright, swaying from blood loss. Unfortunately, now he has the knife.

Cat fires at the one with the knife. She misses his head but rips a hole in the side of his neck, hastening the blood loss. He screams and turns on her; she swears and chambers the next round.

Hancock cracks open the shotgun, slaps two more shells in, and strides over to the flattened mutant, who is starting to push himself up. A point-blank shotgun blast to the head fixes that, and another one stops it from looking like a head, just for good measure.

'Sidora fires two shots at the mutant aiming at Cat, tries to ignore what's going on with Epime and 'Metheus. He'll worry about that once combat is over.

She wrenches her arm in the opposite direction. The sound of metal twisting and tearing is not pleasant.

Epimetheus shifts, pulling the twisted, jagged remains of her arm back and giving herself enough momentum. She aims at the underside of the mutant's chin, going for the brain again with the sharp edge tearing her arm in two left.

Cat looks over, startled by the noise, just in time to see Epime thrust her entire arm through the mutant's head. She does waste a couple seconds gaping at that, though in her defense the fight is almost over anyway. No - not her whole arm, the stump of it, sheared unevenly just above the elbow. Fucking hell.

Epime forces her arm sideways as she starts to tug it free.

He manages to not look by sheer force of will. (Epime will be fine, she's resilient.) He focuses on the one remaining mutant, aiming for its head - he's not on a par with his siblings but he's still a good shot.

It's almost a mercy kill - the mutant can barely stand up, let alone fight. Quiet settles over the scene, save for the wet sounds coming from Epime's direction.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," Cat mutters, then looks horrified at the realization that she's said it out loud.

"Epime," 'Sidora complains, seeming far more horrified by the damage to his sister than what Cat just said. "Seriously?"

"Quite fine, sir," she says, finishing removing her arm from the mutant's head. "It was the most expedient method of dispatch. I may require some assistance with reattaching it. And with removing what passed for brain matter in this thing from my wiring."

As she speaks, she grabs the other half of her arm and tosses it to Anesidora who catches it. Then she moves over to help Prometheus remove the corpse from on top of himself.

"I second Sir's 'really'," Prometheus notes as Epimetheus also hauls him to his feet.

Hancock did hear Cat, and opens his mouth with a grin. She cuts him off before he can say anything.

"Are you okay?" she asks, walking closer to Epime. "Should we get you patched up and come back here another day?"

Epimetheus smiles. "I am quite fine," she assures. "This is barely a handicap at all. If it were a leg we might have a problem."

"We should get you patched up though," 'Sidora points out.

"But we do not need to wait before continuing. It is hardly a though we have bloodloss or pain to concern ourselves with."

Cat shrugs. "Good enough for me. I'll bet you the whole cache we didn't get lucky and there's still a bunch of mutants in that building, though. And I still have no idea where the thing is." She shoulders her rifle and grimaces. "This is gonna be fun. Anyone need a stimpak or anything before we go in?"

Hancock raises his hand. "Jet?"

Cat fishes around in her rucksack and tosses him an inhaler, which he pockets.

Prometheus meanwhile is removing what he can from the internal workings of Epimetheus' arm, and then presses the sides together, forming a sharper point, and hopefully protecting the internal wiring from any more damage.

"I will look at it properly later," he states.

'Sidora hands Epime her arm back when she holds her still-attached hand out for it, a slightly resigned look on his face.

"M'good," he says in response to the question about stimpacks, checking his gun reflexively. "Ready when you are."

Cat takes point, since it doesn't seem like anyone else is going to, and it is her errand they're running, after all. She moves quickly but quietly, ducking behind the receptionist's desk and scanning the lobby before standing up and shrugging. "I don't think there's anybody in here. Probably they all came out and got blown up."

The others follow, light-footed and experienced in being covert.

"That would be convenient," Epimetheus agrees. "But I am assuming that we are still proceeding as though not all hostiles have been eliminated?"

"Yeah," Cat says, but doesn't bother lowering her voice. "Most super mutants take stealth as some kind of personal insult, so if you walk in a room and there isn't any gunfire, there's probably no one there. Well, gunfire or yelling. The yelling is a constant." She rifles through the drawers in the desk, pockets a few bottlecaps, then moves on. "You can loot whatever you want out of here, finders keepers."

"...I am glad we have a way to potentially note hostile without better scanners," Prometheus notes.

"Got to say I am missing your other chassis, Epime," 'Sidora notes. "...mmm. What passes for currency around here?"

"Not half as much as I miss it, sir," Epimetheus murmurs as she advances slightly.

Cat snorts at Prometheus's line before answering. "Bottlecaps," she says, and then, preemptively, "I know."

"...Apparently my theory that currency would persist in one form or another in a post apocalyptic state was in fact entirely accurate," Prometheus sounds almost surprised. "At least in one universe."

"Humans are apparently inclined to maintain currency rather than a system of goods trading. Who would have guessed?" Is that a faint sense of sarcasm?

(Anesidora is chuckling quietly and shaking his head at them.)

"That's not even the best part. I found some guy who was trying to reinvent credit cards - well, that's kind of generous, what he was really doing was scamming people - he tried to get me to give him, I forget what, two hundred caps? in exchange for a piece of metal with '200 caps' written on it."

Hancock laughs, apparently not having heard this story before. "When was that? You didn’t give it to him, did you?"

"No, of course not, guy practically had 'Take the Money and Run' written on his forehead. Besides, it was right after I left Sanctuary, I didn't have the caps even if I was that dumb."

"And that proves that there are always people who chance running a credit scam," 'Sidora chuckles. "Sanctuary?"

"Is now really the time for personal histories, sir?"

"Why not?" Hancock says dryly. "We're only tromping through a building that probably has super mutants in it somewhere. What could go wrong?"

"Sanctuary is what we call this little settlement up to the northwest," Cat says, ignoring this. "It's the neighborhood I used to live in before the war. The development was Sanctuary Hills, the sign managed to survive somehow, Q.E.D. Sanctuary. I like it, it's kind of poetic."

"Also you gather information when you can. And that seemed like the opportune moment. Besides which. Unless they successfully ambush us, we kind of have the high ground..."

Prometheus and Epimetheus both immediately shift as though expecting super mutants to crash through the walls.

"I thought we agreed you would not say things like that."

'Sidora ignores them. "But yeah. That does sound like a bit of a feat. For a sign to survive a nuclear war... I like it."

"Yeah? Maybe we should head up that way after this." She snorts. "I bet Preston has another settlement that needs my help. What good is a militia if I'm always the one going out to clean up the messes, I ask you."

She's been poking at the receptionist's computer terminal as she talks; now she straightens from it, looking a little displeased. "Just company memos and crap. I think I'm done here, how about y'all?"

"I mean. Why would you use your nice militia to attack anything? That runs the risk of them being killed! And then you have problems! Much better to send some sole person who might succeed and benefits as well. Not my personal choice of tactics but it is in fact a win-win scenario for them."

He stands from his own search. "Yeah. I'm not finding anything interesting."

She considers this. "To be fair, I do so far have a one hundred percent success rate."

Hancock has a poorly-disguised laughing fit at that, and jogs up the intact side of the stairs before Cat can level a mock-glare at him.

"Ah. See. There's your problem!" 'Sidora picks his way after Hancock, Epime and 'Metheus just ahead of them. "A bit of failure stops people thinking you're the answer to all their problems. Just make sure it's small failures. There's no prizes for suicidal failure..."

"I don't want to fuck over the actual people that need help, though," Cat says, bringing up the rear. "I'm just lazy, I'm not a horrible person. Even if it would be a lot easier if they'd all just come back to Sanctuary, but nooooo, 'This farm has been in my family for generations!' Generations my ass, I went to that park when the only thing growing there was pine trees."

"That was 200 years ago," Hancock points out. "Besides, you like it when Preston pats you on the head and says you did good."

"I have better aim than you."

"Yes ma'am," says Hancock, sounding not at all repentant in the slightest.

"I think growing up on military bases did a lot to mess with my perspective of what's important. Buildings mean very little, it's the people that are important. I'd move where it was safe in a flat second so long as I could take my people with me."

He laughs slightly. "To be fair, the military also did instil an ingrained response to superiors telling me I did a good job."

"And to yelling," Epimetheus notes clinically. "You can see sir's heels twitch when someone yells an order."

"Laugh it up, Epime, the only reason yours don't is because you cheat and filter for unwanted movements."

Cat does laugh at that, at least until they reach the more enclosed hallways that lead to the labs and operating rooms. Then she quiets, mindful that there might still be enemies in the building. "How do you want to do this?" she stage-whispers. "We could just make some noise and get it all over with at once."

"Well, we've got a choke point here, we'd stand a better chance than accidentally happening upon them," 'Sidora whispers back.

"Sounds good to me. Everyone ready?"

"Not going to be any more ready if we wait," Prometheus notes glibly.

Cat shrugs and juggles her rifle into the crook of her elbow so she can cup both hands around her mouth.

"HEY! BIG DUMB AND UGLY! MY GRANDMA COULD HIT HARDER THAN YOU AND SHE'S DEAD!"

There's an answering roar from down the hallway.

"-Are they reacting to the insult, or just to someone yelling?"

"Does it matter?"

An enormous dog turns the corner in front of them, slams into the opposite wall, and overcorrects before barreling towards them, snarling. It's an ugly thing, hairless, green, and muscle-bound to the point of deformity.

Hancock fires his shotgun at it.

It doesn't even slow down.

"Oh fuck," says Hancock, and tries to get out of everyone else's way.

Epimetheus steps forward, spinning the severed section of her arm around her other hand, and flexing her other shoulder, twisted slightly to one side, knees bent slightly.

The living battering ram crashes into her, teeth first with all four hundred-some pounds of its weight behind the impact. Luckily for Epime (and Hancock, trapped on one side of the tight hallway), what it has in power it lacks in control, and rather than keep its hold on her it fails to check its momentum and continues on a slightly slower trajectory towards the rest of the group.

Epime's shattered arm drove into its neck, but it seems unconcerned with the dark blood now splattering the floor. The muscle took most of the blow; she's missed the artery, but not by much.

Another mutant appears at the end of the hallway, this one bipedal and armed with a pipe rifle. He fires into the fray without bothering to aim.

Epime spins with the dog-thing, and keeps spinning to start out in a sprint towards the mutant and the end of the hallway. (She's going to need to do some serious repairwork when this is over, but she'll cross that bridge when they're not in combat.)

Prometheus moves towards the dog, pulling a knife, and aiming for the injury already created by Epimetheus' arm to try and sever the artery.