Doctor Rigger Mortez sighed, approaching Room 1134, Building 00837. "Bloody hell..." he muttered as he heard gunshots. "I'll be damned if this isn't the right place... but I had to miss the fun part..." he said, his posh British accent slurring a bit in his disappointment. Before he dared walk in, he pulled his assault rifle off of its holster slung across his back.
Bullets? Check. Plenty of 'Health Now!'? Check. Saftey off? Pfft, the safety is never on.
As Riggs, as his friends call him, walked in, he took a deep whiff of the air. His nostrils were met with the scent of gun smoke and fresh blood, his two favorite smells. He saw something alike that of a standoff ahead of him. Dahl soldiers facing towards the other side of him, aiming at a rather ragtag group of gunslingers, Vault Hunters if he had ever seen any.
Riggs cleared his throat loudly, and fired a few shots into the air to accent his point. "Alright, gentlemen, women, and assorted machines, listen up because the doctor is in!" He shouted, dropping down the faceplate of his mask. "Who the hell am I supposed to be shooting?" He asked, leveling his rifle, and scanning the room with it.