The room was filled with aisles just like the main part of the armoury but the guns it had on display were entire tiers more deadly than the main ones.
Some of the stuff inside looked like it belonged in an actual military base.
“Volly, just… what is all this?” He asked, looking around confused.
“Weapons and armour, duh.” she replied, already striding towards one of the armour sections.
Walking behind her, Thomel gazed at the protective equipment they had on display, there was simple stuff like enchanted combat armour, which he could understand them having.
But then there was also power armour, how did they get their hands on power armour? Combat armour was something any well-equipped military force would supply to its troops as default gear. Power armour, on the other hand, was only given to elite units.
He’d truly underestimated the Lonel corporation. Just how deep were their pockets and how far-reaching was their influence for them to get their hands on that stuff?
“Pretty awesome, huh?” Volly asked, smiling at him brightly.
“How did they get all this stuff?”
“Who cares, it’s good for us that they have it. Afraid we’re not going to be given any power armour though.”
“Given?” Thomel curiously asked, his sleep-deprived brain snaggling ahold of that important piece of information.
“Yeah, we’ve been assigned some armour and guns for free, well not quite for free since it gets taken out of our paychecks. The three hundred thousand credits we get is just what’s left over.”
“I can’t tell if I should be reassured because they’re giving us expensive equipment or disheartened because they think we’re going to need it.”
“Feel happy that you’re getting quality weapons and armour, it means you can fight better.”
“Volly I’m not meant to fight, none of us are, we’re hunters. Why do hunters need power armour and what looks like beamers?
“Because the creatures we hunt are hard to kill? Also, the power armour isn’t being given to us, just some enhanced combat suits, the beamers on the other hand are ours.”
“I…Alright, alright fine let's go and get this over with.” Thomel muttered.
“Now that’s the spirit!”
Promptly turning around, Volly picked up a case he hadn’t noticed she’d had and brought it over to him. Gifting it to him like a bird handing its favourite person a twig.
“This is?”
“The combat hazard suit, go and put it on, there’s a few changing rooms behind you, it's right in the corner.”
Nodding his head, Thomel began to retrace his steps and made his way over to the corner.
Along the way, he almost bumped into a trio that walked by him out of nowhere. Other members of this expedition no doubt.
Entering the changing room, he opened the case with some degree of trepidation and excitement and withdrew its contents.
It was essentially an armoured version of a hazmat suit. The protection came in the form of enchantments cast on the rubber to make it more resistant and thick segments of reinforced steel coating it all over, like a cage almost.
He didn’t know what a typical combat hazard suit looked like but he assumed that this wasn’t how they were supposed to look, this one was probably modified to defend against melee attacks rather than worry about missile fire.
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The steel would stop any slashes and might even help against arrows, the rubber itself looked like it would be able to take a few rounds from kinetic small-arms fire before being penetrated, so it could probably deal with a few crossbow bolts.
Still, Thomel felt incredibly uncomfortable putting it on because if it got damaged at all then his life was probably forfeit.
Why else would they shell out the money for expensive hazard suits like this? The only possible reason was that the place they were being sent to was incredibly inhospitable, to the point where without a suit you’d die.
It took him a few minutes of frustrating effort but at last, he had the suit on properly and was able to exit the changing room.
Trailing out of it with the empty case filled with his trenchcoat, Volly waved at him, already wearing her suit.
Walking up to her, she picked up one of the guns at her feet and threw it up at him, he had to drop the case to catch it with both hands.
Her laugh sounded raspy and mechanical, like an old man with cybernetic lungs.
“You’re sure cheerful.” He said, he would shoot her a glare if it wasn’t for his mask preventing her from seeing his face.
Besides, even if he did, she probably wouldn’t care.
“Course I am! We’re going to Anexion. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He didn’t really have anything to say to that, so he just shook his head and fell in behind her as she started to walk away.
Looking down at the weapon in his hands he couldn’t help but feel anxious about this mission they were going on.
Beamers were amongst the forefront of military technology, he didn’t understand how they worked but it had something to do with a magic chamber compressing and firing out a ray of superheated air.
The early models could only be used by people wearing specialised power armour but then they figured out how to condense the beam and now even un-armoured combatants could use it.
It was a staple of proxy wars and guerilla warfare. People would just stroll up to a lightly-armoured vehicle or platoon of unaware soldiers and light them up like firecrackers.
How could this possibly be a gun meant for hunting? It would burn away any valuable hides and cook any internal organs to the point of bursting.
By now it was rather obvious that being a hunter was just a small part of their job but surely there were better options than giving expensive military-level guns to a bunch of nobodies and sending them out to die?
Why not just hire some PMC’s?
He just couldn’t wrap his head around it, maybe it was just some elaborate tax scheme or result of internal politics but he felt like there was something more conspiratorial at play.
It wouldn’t be a form of blood sports, would it?
He’d been given a camera only on his first mission, all the other bits of armour and helmets came without cameras.
Or perhaps it was just a way to gain high-level workers easily. People would come in here and while many of them would die, those that lived would be very high-level and also primed for combat-related work.
If he got out of here it’s not like he could get a cosy office job with his resumé but he could get a job at a PMC company or simply stay at Lonel.
He didn’t have time to think about this any more though. They’d arrived.
Walking into the teleportation room he spotted another two dozen people already gathered and waiting. All except five of them wearing the same hazard suit he had and welding the same model of beamer.
Those five people were wearing white power armour and armed with what looked like plasma weaponry, standing in front of the group.
Following Volly, he walked onto the outskirts of their loose formation. It truly felt like he was in the military, why were they called hunters, when they so clearly were not?
Waiting idly, Thomel spent his time regretting how he didn’t try harder to brush Volly off and also dreaming of that healthy paycheck he’d get once this was over.
That is if he survived, being surrounded by people who seemed like soldiers in all but name was doing a number on his psyche.
The rest of their unit trickled in over the course of half a dozen minutes, until finally everyone was assembled.
Looking over them, one of the white armoured soldiers raised his fist and hollered. “Follow!”
Turning around and marching into the rift with the other four elites, Thomel would have stood staring if it wasn’t for Volly yanking him forward.
“Just a few more steps.” He muttered under his breath.
“Just a few more steps.” Then he’ll be in there and after a few more he’ll be out of there and in a nice, comfy bed.