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Grace's Grenadiers

She met them with her two borrowed bots at the southern edge of town at sunrise. The Assaultron walked at her side, scanning the surroundings carefully, and the mindless hover-bot-of-burden trailed behind her. Lily planned to build her version of this innovative tool of the wasteland. Still, until she could find some more Mr Handy parts, she may have to construct something using multiple salvaged Eyebot levitation fields. Maybe as many as a half dozen. She didn't really know how that would work out or if it would at all.

The small group of four mercenaries was led by an Amazon named Grace, who was of indeterminate ethnicity but featured vaguely Eurasian facial features, eyes combined with a pleasant caramel skin tone. The brunette was easily over 185cm tall and featured a short pixie cut haircut that smoothed out her rough image, at least when she wasn't kitted out in full combat gear with it hidden under a K-pot like she was now.

She was a striking woman, and while Lily wouldn't call her pretty, she was attractive in the magnetic sense that people seemed to want to be around her. Moreover, she was a leader in many of the ways that Lily herself was not and likely would never be.

Grace's group of mercenaries had no name

but privately, Lily called them Grace's Grenadiers because she felt it was a pity to ignore the naming convention of small mercenary bands. It had to be named after the captain and follow the initial from the captain's first name!

Lily considered what her hypothetical mercenary band would be called, but the only thing she could think of was Lily's Labourers, which was a bit on the nose as to what Lily probably would use them for the most. An entrenching tool would be standard load-out!

Grace's subordinates were all men, which probably said something positive about her competence and strength, Lily thought. Ideals like sexual egalitarianism seemed to have fallen a bit to the wayside in the apocalypse, which meant that Grace was probably better than a similar man in her position. A giant blonde man named New John, a black man, named Big John and an Asian man that called himself Tangent.

When they had been introduced, Lily had asked him if his name was a calculus reference and immediately regretted it when the man replied that, yes, sometimes they do scavenge calculators, but he never saw a brand named Tangent.

She wasn't entirely sure of the story of the other two, but apparently, New John just recently signed on to replace a casualty whose name was also John. To keep their original two Johns separate, one was called Big John and the other Little John. Even though this new guy was way bigger than Big John, he was attached to the name. So the littlest John was Big John, and the biggest John was New John.

Lily could see them come to attention when she was about fifty meters out, holding their weapons at a low ready position until they identified her.

Grace yelled, "'Hoy, Doc. Is that a damn Assaultron?!"

Lily waved but waited until they were closer before replying, "Ah, yes, Ms Grace. A dear friend was kind enough to loan it to me with orders to protect me. I am rebuilding one myself, but it tried to murder me when I started it up the first time, so I must have crossed a wire somewhere, eh? Sadly, it doesn't have the huge laser, but it is strong and fast."

Grace chuckled and shook her head, "Well, it's a shame we can't give it general orders, but if it is on VIP protection duty, then... you will head up the rear for sure, and if someone threatens our rear, the Assaultron will see them and tear them a new asshole while precisely following his orders to protect you, sound OK? What's that hovering abomination?"

Lily smiled, as that was her plan also. Although she was lying by omission when she implied she couldn't give it orders. But, she always liked it when people she cooperated with were intelligent, "Yes, that sounds ideal. And this used to be a Mister Handy; about all that is left is the propulsion system. It's got a little sensor that will just follow whoever is in front of it like a baby duck; it is basically a pack mule. Top speed of about fifteen klicks an hour and can carry five hundred kilos. I figure we can all have him carry all our packs, minus things that we need to have on hand fast. Then he can carry all the loot back to Canterbury Commons while we hump our packs on the return leg."

Grace tilted her head to one side and grinned broadly, "That's great Doc! That will really increase our haul on this trip, not to mention making getting there a lot quicker and less of a pain. Although I'm not sure what a duck is." She considered something and then said, "Doc gets an extra share for this contribution to the mission, objections?"

Her men sounded off in a chorus of "Nah", "No, boss", and "Sounds good."

Grace nodded and came to stand next to Lily, "Alright, quick before we head out. Gear check; it's not that I don't trust you to bring everything you should, but you said this was your first time in D.C., so... I guess I don't trust you, but I don't mean anything bad by it."

Lily laughed genuinely. If she were bothered by gear checks, she wouldn't have made it through basic in her past life. They spent about five or ten minutes going over everything she packed. Grace seemed somewhat impressed, with the possible exception of her primary weapon, the carbine.

Grace clucked her tongue and asked, "How good a shot are you, Doc?"

Lily considered that. She had something like 20/5 vision and proprioception that was superior to 99% of the population, "Pretty good, I think. I took down three raiders at about two hundred meters in six shots with this carbine."

Grace nodded and said, "That's better than N.J., then," while ignoring a half-hearted, "Hey!" from the new guy.

She offered Lily a rifle. It looked like a Remington-style bolt-action hunting rifle, complete with a scope of decent magnification. "I'll lend you this. It used to be Little John's before he kicked the bucket. Me and he operated as kind of the designated marksmen of the squad," she hefted her own rifle, which was a tricked-out Russian-looking semi-automatic military marksman rifle rather than just a hunting rifle.

Grace continued, "Our main advantage to raiders beyond their general stupidity is that we can pick them off at range. And if we do, for some reason, run into a Super Mutant, then we'll need the extra armour piercing of a full-sized cartridge. I don't think a short-barreled carbine as you got will cut it unless you're a lot closer than you'd ever want to be to one of the bastards. I once saw one beat a man to death with one of those extra tall stop signs, one-handed. Sound good?"

Lily nodded. Even if she was just doing one or two jobs as a part-timer, Grace was her boss right now, so she would show respect. However, she couldn't help but try to tease her a little bit. She came to attention, then clicked her heels together Colonel Klink-style before sounding off, "Ma'am, yes, ma'am! Ma'am, this recruit has a question about our rules of engagement, ma'am!"

Grace grinned and swatted her on the rear, and she felt a sting even through her impact-resistant bodysuit. Lily felt her face heat up faintly before hopping out of range, hand going to guard herself while both Johns laughed at her. Grace answered, "None of that shit, please. We're mercs, not the bloody Enclave. But, sure. Guys, listen up, too."

The men assumed a lazy, almost parade-rest pose but kept their attention on Grace. She continued, "Our target is the University of Maryland satellite campus. That makes it sound like a tiny office, but they just called it that for legal reasons because it was in D.C. and not Maryland. It is a pretty big campus, covering about six blocks. It's west of the National Guard Depot which we want to keep a wide berth away from, and about five blocks north of the Galaxy News Radio building... which we also want to keep away from as that is a popular battleground between the Brotherhood and the muties. We want to avoid both, and we especially want to avoid incidentally being killed in their cross-fire."

She glanced at everybody, in turn, to make sure everybody understood. Lily hoped she wasn't blushing anymore and nodded, trying to seem serious. Grace smiled, "I'm not sure we have any of what you'd call RoEs, but we do have tactics and contingencies. Our strategy, unlike a proper military unit, is always to survive. Therefore all the tactics we employ are to see that strategy is enacted."

Grace held up a single finger, "Generally, if we see raiders, we'll drop them at the highest range we can set up, from ambush. Unless they are entrenched or we are vastly outnumbered, then we hide and avoid them. That's the worst of what we're expecting."

She raised a second figure, "We see ANY shinies, that is to say, infantry in Power Armour, we immediately hide and avoid until we can identify them. The Brotherhood generally won't hassle mercs that are obviously switched on and have their heads on swivels. We're obviously not raiders. But the Enclave will generally shoot us on sight. But they rarely operate in D.C. If they do, they are almost always inserted and extracted in Vertibirds, so it's easy to see them coming and avoiding. By the way, there is a standard reward from the Brotherhood to report any Enclave in their AO, which basically is D.C. If they DO attack us, we take cover, use grenades and then try for headshots with AP ammo while looking for a way to run that they can't or won't follow. Even a fireteam of two of the bastards will tear us to pieces in a stand-up fight just on account of the disparity in armour and firepower. Other teams have succeeded in luring them into a prepared kill box and then killing them through command-detonated H.E., but then again, they might have been bullshitting me. Explosives are the best bet, as the Power Armour still has trouble fully protecting a person from concussive shock waves, even if it will stop shrapnel and small arms."

She said the last solemnly. Then she raised a third finger, "Muties, well, that's actually similar as the Enclave. Treat them as of comparable danger but much stupider. Hide, if they attack, we do concentrated fire at long range, then do a mass grenade attack at 20 meters or so as they rush us and then go for headshots. Three or four close frag grenades will put down your average Super Mutant. And they tend to try to close to short range even if they are carrying a Gatling laser and could keep us suppressed and chew us up at range with it. How's your throwing arm, girlie?"

She grinned and then nodded, "That's enough for now; when we get to the target, we'll discuss our standard tactics for clearing buildings, too. But it'd be harder to understand before we can run you through it once or twice."

We set a good pace, slowing to watch the Assaultron tear a group of giant ants to pieces near the ruined car factory south of Vault 108. It had taken me over six hours to reach the town from 108, but we passed it in barely over an hour today.

During the hike, Grace taught Lily some of their normal formations, call-outs to use if she saw enemies when to shoot before even calling them out and other SOPs, although Grace denied that they were procedures at all and called them guidelines.

The group reached the outskirts of D.C. at about mid-day, and their pace slowed to a stealthy crawl.

Lily suddenly came to a stop and called out, "Contact little less than a half a klick ahead of us, raiders, I think. Three or four men of military age, at arms. By the burned-out 18-wheeler."

The others came to a quick stop, semi-crouched. Grace called out, "All around defence, guys. Girlie, up here." The three other guys turned to the sides and behind us, their weapons held at a high-ready position.

Grace whistled appreciatively as she sighted down the street with her rifle, "You got eyes like an eagle or something, girlie. There are six, though. We'll do this together, at your own pace. I'll work in from the left after your first shot, you the right."

Lily grinned and assumed a kneeling firing position, supporting the rifle with the hood of a wrecked car, "Is that my code-name? Girlie?"

Lily searched for a target, finding the group of obvious raiders. Her target on the far right had a pair of human skulls as pauldrons.

A snort came from next to her, and an amused voice said drily, "If you want."

Lily slowed her breathing. She was never really a sniper, but her grandpa in her past life had taught her how to fire a rifle almost since she could hold one in her hands. This wouldn't be close to the farthest shot she's ever taken.

She made some assumptions about what range the rifle was zeroed to and placed the reticle slightly above her target's head, which she hoped would generate a hit at centre mass. She held her breath and slowly squeezed the trigger, hoping to surprise herself with the report of the shot. Grace fired immediately after her.

She quickly worked the rifle's action and started to look for her first target when she heard Grace fire again. Finding her first target down, she shifted left and found one confused-looking man holding some kind of assault rifle. She placed her reticle again and squeezed the trigger. After loading another round, she saw that she missed, and her target was kneeling down, taking cover behind a car but taking cover from the wrong direction. Couldn't he hear the shots? Or was he just confused in the fog of battle? She carefully placed the reticle this time and fired.

Grace stopped her when she was about to search for the next target by clapping her companionably on the shoulder, "Nice shooting, girlie, they're all down. Three shots, two hits. Not bad. We could make a sniper out of you, perhaps!" Wait, had she taken out the other 4 in that time? She stopped noticing each individual shot Grace took when she was busy herself. She supposed her making three shots to Grace's four, perhaps, was pretty good when you considered her rifle was semi-auto. But then she remembered she didn't realize how long Grace was watching her line up the last shot. Still, she smiled stupidly at the praise, "Ahaha, th-thanks."

The Assaultron looked disgruntled, almost as if it wasn't pleased that it could not simultaneously kill those men while also complying with the command to stay within a certain distance of her.

They skulked over, staying at a bit of a distance before they were sure there wasn't a second raider team they didn't notice that would ambush them when they checked on their dead comrades before seeing if there was any loot. A couple of salable rifles in middling shape plus one hunting rifle in terrible condition but a lot of ammunition for it, of the latter Lily, took right away.

They came to a stop near a subway entrance. The road ahead was close to impossible. Grace whispered, "We're pretty close, but we have to bypass the next block. If we go around east, we will get way too close to the National Guard depot. So we'll bypass through the subway line. Probably no raiders down there, but expect feral ghouls and other beasties. Johns on point, girlie; this is our main formation when we're in a semi-enclosed space with multiple avenues of attack on us. You'll face our rear and walk backwards. We'll move no faster than at your pace. Don't turn around if you hear us firing because those sounds are what will get a feral to run up on us from behind. We are a train, right? And you're the caboose. Ditch the rifle, grab your carbine."

Lily was surprised. This was Spec Ops formation shit; she hadn't expected these guys to act so professionally. She certainly didn't feel qualified to be doing any of this, but she had played Modern Warfare, so she was familiar with the concept, even if she felt like an imposter for trying to pull it off.

After they descended the stairs, she took her position. She was wondering what the Assaultron would do; normally, it walked next to her. It seemed confused for a moment, staring at her, walking backwards, then staring at the rest of the team, then back at her. Would it walk backwards too? She kind of wanted to see it.

No. But it did slow down, allowing Lily to get in front of it, presumably so any enemies would have to go through it first to get to Lily, and every few moments, it turned its head to scan the area behind them.

They had already switched follow the leader targets on the hover bot of burden to Grace, so it was actually hovering next to her, and she hoped it wouldn't get in the way if there was combat. It was really stupid. It would follow a ghoul back into its nest if you let it.

Grace was guiding her so she didn't either back up too fast or go off course, keeping a hand firmly on Lily's lower back.

Grace's hand seemed really big, and it was quite strong, wasn't it? Lily flushed at her thoughts. Way to get distracted and possibly eaten by ghouls, Lily. Real professional.

"Contact. Mole rats, ahead," the bigger man named Little John said, followed by several single, and she assumed well-aimed, shots. It took a serious force of will not to immediately turn around herself, but it was a good idea that she didn't because several ghouls, including one Bright One, shambled out of some of the twisty maintenance corridors on either side and started shambling with an unsettling speed towards her.

She brought her carbine up quickly and reported in what a mean person might describe as a girly shriek of terror, "Three ghouls, one Bright One rear! Assaultron, get the Bright One!"

As soon as the ghouls appeared, the Assaultron had frozen. She knew for a fact it didn't have any sensors in the back, so she was intellectually curious about what clue triggered that reaction. Its digital voice said, sounding gleeful, "Defensive protocols engaged," and turned around quickly and began running at the ghouls at about the same time Lily called out. When she told it to attack the Bright One, it shifted its run to the left, crouched and leapt at the radioactive ghoul.

Lily aimed at the centre of one of the ghouls rushing her and squeezed the trigger. She was on full auto, so she at least had the foresight to keep her aim point low so that the recoil from the short burst walked its way up the ghoul's chest and struck its head in a quick rat-a-tat-tat.

Holy shit, the Assaultron had already decapitated the Bright One and turned on the next nearest ghoul. She shifted her aim to the last ghoul that was still rushing her but Grace, who had turned around when she was killing the first one, performed a Mozambique drill with her pistol, giving it two rounds to the chest and one to the head.

She watched it fall before glancing at the Assaultron, who was finishing the last ghoul off by... what the fuck! It was holding the ghoul's own severed arm in its claw and was beating the ghoul to death with it, which didn't take long.

"Hostiles neutralized," it reported, its slightly feminine digital voice sounding smug.

Lily glanced at Grace, who also looked a little shocked, then back at the Assaultron. Considering something, Lily gave the Assaultron an order, "Assaultron, disable psyops demoralization protocol. New ROE requires the most rapid and efficient take-downs possible. Acknowledge."

The Assaultron gazed at her, and seemed a bit disappointed, "Acknowledged, no fun protocols engaged." She hadn't known that there was a demoralization protocol, actually. She made a wild-ass guess, but then again, this was the Fallout universe, so of course, the assault robot designed for the US Army had psyop protocols.

There were no more rear attacks, but the boys put down a few more molerats and ghouls before they got to the stairs up to the surface.

The team paused before heading up to the stairs, and Grace gave her a cheerful smile, "Good job, girlie. I won't jinx us by suggesting what we'll find up there, but we aren't expecting too much in the way of threats." She had a nice smile; she should smile more, Lily thought.

Normally this is written in the 3rd person, but the exception is for the occasional literal thought the POV character has (this has always been the MC so far.) Normally I just describe what the MC/POV character is thinking but occasionally I put down the exact thought from their internal monologue, I do this to emphasize these thoughts. They should be in italics but webnovel doesn't support rich text, sadly.

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