OOM: Population Parameters

[blueshifted]

"I've got the light. Stay next to me. Ready? Go..."That was the last Barney had heard from either Gordon or Alyx in person; when they were split up in the labyrinth. He'd fought tooth and nail to keep alive without a weapon in the rapidly-decaying City 17. Luckily, he still had a jury-rigged radio from the battle earlier, and had called out,

Comments

[smelltheashes]

Maybe He's listening, maybe he's not. Hard to say. There is, however, a group of four gamely willing Resistance fighters waiting when he arrives, edging nervously around the television as Dr. Kleiner's message broadcasts yet again.

[blueshifted]

Barney's watching the CPs, waiting until they're all facing other directions, before whispering "out" and starting off, halfway between a crouch and a run.

[smelltheashes]

Denise splits off at the sort of trot that in other times would have won her a berth on any elementary school field trip- as the person responsible for keeping the kids from dashing into traffic in an unfamiliar city. Fast, low-slung, barely noticeable, she swiftly vanishes from sight. Lurch just makes for the crate pile and props up his gun; he's good with it, but not good enough not to appreciate a little support. Fred and Arnold stick close behind Barney, guns drawn- although Arnold looks like he's taking the prospect better than his squadmate, and in fact is keeping an eye out for anyone who might just have seen them.

After five seemingly interminable seconds of silence, the chitterBEEP! of an activated Combine grenade can be heard in-bound- as can the sound of CPs suddenly swearing.

[blueshifted]

Barney doesn't hesitate a second, and whips out the gun to fire at the CPs, focusing the spray on each of their heads in sequence. There was a reason he became a security guard. He's been around guns since he was a kid, and his aim... well, it wouldn't win him prizes in a marksman's competition, but in battle, it's damn near perfect.

[smelltheashes]

Fred and Arnold open fire in the next instant, and as the CPs start shooting back, the methodical thud thud thud of pulse rifle fire from Lurch's position rips through their attempt to pull a unified group together. Add in Denise's strafing from her original position, and the only advantage the CPs have at all is their numbers- and that, not for very long...

[blueshifted]

After Barney brings his first man down, he uses the confusion of the CPs to dart in and take them down from a better angle, using cover when he needs to in order to reload. He doesn't take risks, though. Not with a squad this small.

[smelltheashes]

Which is good, because Denise is out of grenades; her submachine gun's not too bad a substitute, but that's it as far as area effect weapons go. Lurch stays where he is, though. With the limited magazine on a pulse rifle he likes to pick his shots carefully.

He's really very good with that thing.

[blueshifted]

Which is very, very good, because it's what's winning them the fight. The CPs have pistols, submachine guns if they're lucky, and the deadly energy bullets are plowing through the Combine.

They barely even knew what hit 'em.

[smelltheashes]

Arnold isn't saying anything, but it's not too hard to tell from the look on his face that he's probably keeping score. Hey, he might be a medic, but this is a world where Geneva's not much more than a rubble heap. He gets to shoot, dangit.

Denise's bullets are... um... hm. Well, there's a reason she carries grenades, normally. At least she's keeping the CPs from going anywhere near her position. Unpredictability of aim can sometimes be used to your advantage.

Lurch has the faintest of frowns on his face as he picks out a second target and a third; having to duck his head out of the way is a problem, but he's almost fast enough to get off every lined-up shot first.

And Fred, well... Fred still looks as if he wants to throw up. It's possible that that's his default reaction to combat. But he doesn't seem to have let it stop him, and in the end he's the one who cuts down the last of the CPs as the masked man tries to rush Barney's position.

[blueshifted]

Barney--is shocked, really, and gives him a congratulatory slap on the back (gently, this is Fred, after all), grinning at him. "That was a damn good job; man, you pretty much saved my life. I owe you... something. I'd say beer, but I don't even know if we can get that, now."

[smelltheashes]

"You'd be amazed what you can make vodka from," volunteers Arnold. "Fred, you can throw up for real now."

"Thank you," says Fred, and returns Barney's smile before hurrying to do so somewhere out of sight.

Arnold just shakes his head. "Excuse my brother. Stage fright. He's like this every time he has to do something important in front of people."

[blueshifted]

Barney gives a low whistle. "Damn. That sucks. But he's fighting. That's more'n some people are doing. I give him props for just that."

Barney runs his hand over his weapon while he waits for Fred to be done, making sure he's okay on ammo, just in case. He grabs up the few clips that the CPs had, and passes them out to anyone who needs them, and then spares a glance at the crates.

"I always wonder what they keep those crates around for," Barney says with a laugh. "I guess without a crowbar, I'll never know."

[smelltheashes]

"I call them therapy boxes," Lurch volunteers.

Denise, who's finished searching the corpses nearest her and brought over several medivials as well as the remaining spare ammo, glances up at Lurch. "Should I even ask why?"

Without saying another word, Lurch lashes out with one fist and leaves a very credible dent in the side of one of the crates.

"Oh. That kind of therapy."

[blueshifted]

"Yeah," Barney says with a laugh, "he's got it. It'd be a toss-up as to what's better: smashing through a pile'o'crates with a crowbar back at Black Mesa, or gunning down a crowd of CPs."

They both have their pros and cons.

[smelltheashes]

"Well, we're just gonna have to settle for what we can get," says Arnold. "Where to now, boss? ... hey, you feeling okay? You got a little scalp bleeding going on there."

[blueshifted]

"Yeah, I..." Barney pauses, reaching up to feel his scalp. Sure enough, his fingers come away coated in blood. "I'm fine--bullet must've just grazed me. Anybody got any bug juice? I'm fresh out."