Darlen Hammond
((Outskirts of Nipton))
The boulder was making a soft, sandpapery sound against the elbow reinforcements on the Hazmat Suit. Darlen could see very clearly in the onset of evening: and very far through the scope of his weapon. There was less shoveling underway at Nipton: instead, the Legion men were sorting out their positions. Was this really just a big invitation? Darlen found the Legion’s method of operation here outlandish. They would rather have Nipton destroyed by their enemies and the majority of it’s residents killed than to take it over, assimilate it. This trap wasn’t very “Nova Roma” of them.
The politics of the situation wasn’t his prime concern. Darlen needed to make his move the moment he saw an opportunity to unleash chaos, and under the cover of confusion and darkness, he would be able to retrieve his sister. He searched the terrain around Nipton like a hawk scanning for prey. That’s when he saw them.
At the head of the line was a Legion man, trussed up in extravagant headgear and carrying a brush rifle. Behind him were six children, Niptonites, each shackled to another child. And in the back of the line, a traitor. It was his old school teacher, with a pistol holstered, helping guide the children along, presumably on the march now toward Cottonwood cove. That bitch… Darlen was ready to shoot her legs out from under her. He had gained a lot of experience in making precise shots on the human body in the Big Empty, taking down the strange enslaved residents of the place.
Darlen waited. Then finally, the line was far enough away from the rest of the entrenched Legion. He rained fire on the foremost man, quickly puncturing him between twenty and thirty times in but two seconds. As he crumpled to the ground, the traitor panicked, fumbling with her gun, her hands too slick to properly ready it. Darlen moved on her, slamming her in the stomach with the face of his weapon, toppling her over. ”What have you done…” Darlen’s growling, somewhat muffled voice echoed out from under his mask. His glowing eyes shocked the traitor, and she turned completely pale as she rolled on the ground, trying to put space between them and recover. Near her Darlen spotted a key that had escaped her possession. He took it and rushed to his sister: the other two sets of children had separated and begun to run towards the road, but she had turned and forced her partner in binds to stay when she heard her brother’s voice. He unlocked her chain, and just as the manacles popped free with a soft metal click he heard the snap-crack of a bullet launched and tearing through the air. The traitor had shot the boy Chloe had been manacled together with in the head, presumably by mistake while aiming for Darlen’s dark armored frame. Her gun had launched from her hands when she fired and struck her forehead, knocking her unconscious as blood streamed from her nose. Darlen left her to that, lifting his sister easily off the ground and dashing away into the night. He was making a beeline for Novac, and then… The 188 Trading Post.