(no subject)

[vance_prime]

Work on restoring the Borealis continues apace. If all goes well, they'll be ready to teleport out within the week.

Of course, not everything goes according to plan. Alyx hadn't anticipated Shephard's pet houndeye going into heat, for instance. But Alyx refuses to make that her problem. Shephard can deal--no, Shephard will deal with it. Alyx is going to take a break.

Thus, we find a pregnant Resistance leader stretched out across the couch, munching on a bag of Doritos and reading a book on childrearing.

[Open until it scrolls.]

Comments

[hecu_marine]

"Thank you," says Shephard fervently. "Shit. That'd be all we'd need."

[vance_prime]

"...let's change the subject, shall we?" says Alyx. "We're heading off to Europe in a week, if all goes well..."

[hecu_marine]

"Fine by me," says Shephard. "We got any clear intel on the site yet? I only got me a little bit of time with the shit we took out of that desal plant."

[vance_prime]

"Some," says Alyx. "Right now the plan is to land in the Baltic Sea, off the coast of Poland. We might have to fight off antlions on the beach, but there's no Combine presence in the immediate area."

[hecu_marine]

"Antlions... shit. You know, I ain't never fought those," Shephard says. "Run like fuck from, sure, fought, no. Fill me in on 'em before I go git the details out of somebody else back home, ma'am?"

[vance_prime]

Alyx nods, looking thoughtful. "The ones we're most likely to run into are soldiers and spitters," she begins. "It's past spawning season, so the bulls won't be active unless someone actually digs down into the warrens... I'm guessing the ones you've seen before are soldiers? Four-legged katydids the size of a Shetland pony?"

[hecu_marine]

"Yep, those're them," says Shephard. "Me'n Chell got surrounded by 'em right before we found Tim Hutchence's crew. Fuckers're fast."

[vance_prime]

"They track prey based on sound and scent--they can only see well enough to keep from bumping into things in midair," says Alyx. "Now, the weakest part of an antlion soldier is its underbelly. One good shotgun blast to the gut and they're down. The trick is to hit them in midflight or to knock them over on their backs. The gravity gun's good for that."

[hecu_marine]

"Which is nice, but we only got one," Shephard says. "Shotgun, you say?"

He can live with that. It's not his weapon of choice, but he's used them often enough.

[vance_prime]

Alyx nods. "That's what I prefer, anyway. Takes too many bullets otherwise. Now, the spitters aren't as heavily armored, but they're not likely to let you get close to them. They'll just lob acid loogies at you from thirty yards off."

[hecu_marine]

"That ain't no big thing. Acid, gas, and chem/biol in general's what my unit was trained to handle anyways," says Shephard. "We got grenades? 'Cause I can throw."

[vance_prime]

"Some--oh!" Alyx snaps her fingers. "I just remembered--Ellen got me some more Nuka-Cola. Not a whole drum of it, but we can definitely make enough grenades to make antlions think twice about crossing us."

[hecu_marine]

"Aw, and just when Ten Boom was startin' to feel all safe and cozy-like again." Shephard grins. "I'll pass the word on. Man needs some warning 'fore he starts buildin' that shit."

[vance_prime]

"No, no, I'll take care of it," says Alyx. "You focus on taking care of Mrs. Wilson. I'd like to have that situation at least somewhat resolved before we leave for Europe."

[hecu_marine]

"Yes ma'am. Sooner that's dealt with, the better," Shephard says. "Anything else, ma'am?"

[vance_prime]

"Nothing comes to mind," says Alyx. "Dismissed."

[hecu_marine]

"Ma'am," says Shephard, and nods once before heading off to look for his eyeball dog.