Attack on Fortress

Chapter 1: Meet them All!

Chapter 1: Meet them All!

1970, September 23, 12:47pm

Location: The Badlands, New Mexico

The desert wastelands of New Mexico; this land was harsh, brutal and full of despair. The Badlands, as the natives called it, is a dead, broken and shattered world that is cruel and unmerciful to its residents; for the few that remained anyway. The only thing that occupied the terrain was dirt and gravel, nothing but gravel and dirt as far as the eye could see. Not a plant, tree, animal or living soul resided here; just gravel and dirt. Nothing lived here, nothing, except for nine individuals living in an old nuclear power plant.

Nestled tight within the many canyons that made the bulk of the Badlands was an old industrial building built near an old Mann Co. nuclear power plant that met an unfortunate meltdown back in 1950. Some say you can still hear the muted cries of the poor souls who weren't lucky enough to die in the blast or from the radiation poisoning. These 'cries' were just ghost stories; the truth is that the current residents had killed the survivors. The cries heard today though were those of the current residents' test subjects.

Residing in the nuclear plant was a mercenary group known as the Reliable Excavation Demolition team, better known as RED Team.

A minor faction within TF Industries, also known as Team Fortress, the team was formed and hired by Redmond Mann as his main force to quell his opposition, his brother, Blutarch. The RED Team are in constant battle against their sworn enemy: the BLU Team, Blutarch's own mercenary unit.

On top of the roof of a grey building was a metal lawn chair, the Rancho Relaxo, with a small red and orange umbrella keeping its occupant shaded from the harsh New Mexico sun. The occupant reached over to the shelf next to him, a row of refreshments ripe for his pickings. He reached for an ice-cold beer, smacking the lid of the bottle on the metal chair, sending the seal flying. He brought the brew to his mouth and took a thirsty gulp.

The man stood at only 167 centimetres tall. He wore a red buttoned shirt accompanied by a black tie, to break the monotonous sea of red, with a symbol of a wrench atop his shoulders. Gun holsters ran down both his sides, each holding a Lugermorph pistol underneath his arms; Holstered Heaters was the name of this fashion choice. He wore baggy, oil stained maroon pants with old, yellow peeling knee caps strapped tightly to his legs. One foot, the left, was flesh and bone and the other was metal and gears: The Roboot, a prosthetic foot to replace the one that he had lost. Holding up his pants was a set of black braces and a belt full of gadgets. Among these gadgets was the Eureka Effect, a giant wrench with a futuristic style; the red and silver polished design of the atomic symbol looked pristine next to the electrical coil and antenna on the top which sparked randomly. Beside the wrench was a small radar dish with a grip and joy-stick, a weapon known as the Wrangler. Across his belt was a repurposed calculator-turn-Construction PDA and another pad with one big red button and a screen; a Destruction PDA.

The man's face was as rugged as his clothes. A few tiny, nearly invisible scars dotted his face. He has a hooked nose and was sporting the Gold Digger: a long, bushy light brown beard that ran all along the lower half of his face. His eyes were covered by eyewear; orange tinted welding goggles to be exact. To top it all off, he dons the Texas Tin-Gallon, a metal "cowboy" hat that was terribly bolted together in uneven places.

He was known to his fellow comrades as The Engineer. A man of science, engineering and premium, well-done steak.

Engineer had nothing really important to do today, so he thought he might as well kill time on his Rancho Relaxo while he waited patiently for his delivery.

Beep

Engineer reached for his Construction PDA and saw that something triggered the perimeter defence matrix, apparently a friendly vehicle had activated it. "'Bout time" Engineer mumbled to himself before jumping to his feet, the Rancho Relaxo folding into a tool-box as soon as he left it.