Weapon fittings

Enhanced Heros and Villains alike tend to disregard small arms, at their own peril. Yes, a standard 9mm slug isn’t going to do much to most of the community, and the old reliable hollow point may not either. However, there are far more interesting rounds available. Even normal handguns have armor piercing options now, even if many communities make them illegal for sale or use. That’s ignoring speciality heavy rounds that may come into use.

That’s ignoring the fact that just because you can walk off a handgun hit with a “little bruise” doesn’t mean you are going to want a group of goons to empty clips of ammo into your body. No one fears the Six Foot Tall contusion.

Heroing for dummies, where E-books are sold.

Solaris laughed. "I am a bit excited to see what you do for her. Ms Ruan is quite the pistol, with a stare that can induce guilt in anyone it's turned on.”

"Much like my own and like my own. Did you know she's armed?" He chuckled. "I approve."

"I am not surprised. Penny and Solaris said at the same time, then laughed..

The tailor tapped on his pad, and the table in front of him slid to the side, as another lowered from the roof. This one was a bit different, with monitors on the side. "Now for you, Lieutenant, or should I say Dreadful. The first thing is, according to rumor, I need to see any issues I will have to work around."

“I screwed up my leg, had it ripped off and reattached. It sometimes gives me pain, in bad weather or after using power armor that uses neural link technology.”

"That was what my contacts said, in less detail. It's not an unusual issue. Your control suit will have to be designed to take that into account. Lay on the table and I can scan for the damage, don't ask how because I don't know. A brain made it for me. but, once I see that, I can work around the issue."

Okay, she hopped on the table shivering at the cool feel of the tech against her. They did the best they could, I’m lucky to still have a leg.”

"Oh, they did fine work. I can see the damage, and the healing. the simple fact is trauma always leaves a mark." The tailor said. "There we are, you have a few nerve clusters that moved a bit. What we'll do is make your undersuit with longer legs, and a neuro-transmitter relay systems to shift communications to where it needs to be. I'm not going to say it'll be perfect, but it shall reduce the pain dramatically. Likely no more than being a bit sore after a workout."

“That will be a blessing. I’m working on building my suit, I should hopefully be able to mitigate it even more with the build. Damn government budgets, of course a sup-tailor has better tech than UNLOC.”

"I am afraid I am not skilled enough to help you there, but I know it has something to do with the actual attenuation between the system and your nervous system. Hopefully this will help." He noted what he needed to. "So, it'll be a standard suit but with longer legs." he called up the undersuit. "Same bullet proof material, so I'll drop the other set for these."

"Now, are you the armor wearer who looks at a wise armorer foolishly if someone suggests an outfit and gear to use OUT of the battle rattle?"

“I love my armor and I’m more comfortable with it, but I am good with handguns, rifles and knives. “

"Then I'm going to suggest this..." What came up was a gothic punk look, pants instead of skirts and a leather coat with lace details, buckles, and belts galore. From the look, the outfit integrated her pilot’s suit, but her hair was showing as longer and purple. "I already know what you're about to ask. It's a bit of a tech I'm playing with, think a wig that isn't really a wig, giving you some anonymity. I am using it for those who don't want masks."

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“Interesting.” she said “I take it if I lose the coat I’ll be able to suit up?” She hated how much those super girly lace and ruffles spoke to her. She was macho, damn it.

"Yes, while the coat and straps will allow for concealed holsters for weapons and other tools, and of course the requisite utility belt integration."

“Okay, damn it. I’m sold, I’ve always wanted a coat and boots like that.” She looked at Solaris and I am buying them, not you. I want them.”

Solaris held her hands up. “As you like.”

“Now for kit, let us talk about your weapons load out. I’m assuming you’re carrying the standard ERT side arm, .500 Smith and Wesson?” At her nod, he frowned. “I think we can do better than that. While the .50 action express is a bit of a downgrade, you won’t be limited by NATO regs, so you can load more specialized rounds, meaning more options.” He explained. “I’m thinking Desert Eagles, call it a pair, in the manufacturer's so-called “Black Cherry” finish. I will of course have my techs add what recoil compensation we can, as well as an upgraded barrel, sights, the whole shebang. For more generic combat situations, I’m thinking a custom-made variation of the PP-90, chambered in standard 9mm, rated for plus P. That’ll have to be custom built, since those folding bastards are a pain to get from Ukraine and are chambered for Tokarev. Fortunately, I know a guy who can manufacture what I want.”

“Okay, wow.” Penny said, blinking in surprise at the suggestions. “That sounds very, cool actually.”

“I will also look into some folding shotgun options, you can load those with Taser shells or something else less than lethal for when that’s needed. Again, something nice and concealable for when you don’t need it. Let the fools think you only have a pistol.”

“Oh I am going to need to book so much range time.”

"As you should, as you should." he chuckled. "Oh, and should I let you see some of the weapons, personal and, larger, that might be laying around for appropriately licensed purchasers?"

“Yes please. I’d love to see what toys you have.”

Zoya Bo-Hee was having a pretty good day. She’d managed to earn enough cash to buy her own car, She'd found one she could afford and her mother was going to help with the licensing and insurance. She'd be able to have a real job, Z'd even already started to fill out the information to start Door Dashing so she wouldn't have to fleece tourists anymore.

“Daughter, it is time to come home.”

“Fuck.” She cursed, jumping up off the bench, spinning around. Standing a dozen feet behind where she’d been sitting was her father, his Korean features stern, his dark eyes judgmental. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“For one thing, I am being disappointed in my daughter's foul language. We did not raise you to speak like a dockside worker.” Kye Bo-Hee said as he walked around the bench, approaching her.

“You barely raised me at all.” She snarled. “That’s ignoring when you decided to turn me into the cops for shoplifting when I was twelve.”

“It was for your own good. I wish you had taken the lesson to heart.”

“Yeah, I took the lesson all right. You can’t even trust your own parents in this world.”

He sighed. “I know it is hard to understand how my expectations for you are so harsh, and how my work pulls me away, but it is what is needed. The city…”

“The city is just as filthy today as it was yesterday, and you being here sure as hell ain’t changing anything.” She snapped.

“Enough of this. You are a seventeen-year-old girl, and as your father I am taking you home.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, only to have her twist and free herself with a motion he’d taught her himself.

Before he could take another step towards her he was forced to fend off a series of rapid fire snap kicks aimed at his head and chest, catching the third kick and twisting it, sending his daughter flipping in the air.

She landed with a roll, and didn’t even look back as she took off, diving into a bush. He gave chase, but soon realized she had eluded him.

He had no idea she was standing not three feet away, watching him, her power and shadows wrapped around her, watching him mutter in rather dockside Korean before walking away.

Z was having a really, really bad day.