Solace & Taproots

2.4

Ronnie laid their two packs, plus two more "liberated" from the room, on top of the back-to-back metal shelves whose tops formed a table surface in the center of the armory.

A quick scan of the room showed Bex vertical weapon racks on the opposite and left walls, above more waist high shelves, and a mix of full height shelves and cabinets to the right. There were only at most a half dozen or so of any given gun type, which made sense for an outpost of this size. Several slots were empty near more examples of the carbines that seemed to be standard issue. Mixed cases, crates, and cans filled most of the visible shelving.

She saw Ronnie already setting aside ANOTHER light machine gun next to hers... did she plan to dual wield? One just for the weekends? Ronnie also put a large drag bag that could be team-carried via handles at each end onto the table, and started placing ammunition cans for various calibers into it two at a time.

The first thing to catch Bex's eye was a slightly fancier case marked ACC'Y/MAINT KIT: ARMOR, RECON, HVY. Yeah, that was going right into Santa's bag, she didn't even need to peek.

Christine had set down her "boring" carbine and brought down a shotgun from the wall, describing how she had an affinity for them from family experiences. Bex didn't know as much about shotguns, but it didn't look to have a pump, so probably a semiautomatic, with a red dot sight and weapon light already mounted. Chris had already begun sliding shells into it from a box below when Ronnie glanced over and told her to take a second one, nodding to the packs.

Looking back at Ronnie, Bex saw her strapping on a thigh holster and sliding in what looked to be a very tactical'ed-out descendant of a 1911, which Bex recognized from her dad's old movies and her initial shopping trips. As she finished that, Ronnie gestured encouragingly towards two long, chunky black plastic cases that were suspiciously rifle-sized.

She watched Bex open the first one, and they both made approving noises. It was... some sort of bullpup, still one she'd seen as a prop in sci-fi shows, but bigger than Ronnie's P90. It had a weapon light very similar to Bex's, but the presence of a yellow warning sticker and a small dark hole in the light's reflector told her it also had an integrated laser like her pistol. She recognized the tubular optic sight as similar in function to her M4's from seeing it on other people's rifles, and it had a fold-aside magnifier tube behind it. Bex looked questioningly at Ronnie for more information.

"That's an Israeli 'Tavor'. Same caliber and magazines as your M4, itty bitty living space. Nice for urban use, for obvious reasons."

Bex picked it up experimentally and pivoted and tilted a little. It felt like slipping into an impossibly perfectly fitting athletic shoe. When she looked at the chubby magazines that were included in the gun case, she found they were already loaded, and labeled with 60 round capacities. More dakka, indeed.

She pulled out one of the more vanilla infantry armor / load carrier vests hanging in an open cabinet, transferred her "regular sized" magazines to it, and set it and her M4 down next to Patrick, with a meaningful toe nudge. Returning to the case, she shoved two of the high capacity mags into her pouches, loaded and chambered the Tavor with the third, checked the light and sight, and connected it to her sling that had been carrying the M4.

Glancing around, she spotted Ronnie stuffing the remaining space in the packs and large bag with a deliberately chosen collection of scopes, goggles, magazines (30 rounds is SO ten minutes ago...), small arms, and specialty ammunition. Since all that seemed under control and Chris appeared to have found herself some sort of heavy CQB vest with many, many bandolier loops, Bex returned to the second long black case. She clicked the latches, opened the lid, and... oh. Oh-hohoho, my. She felt like the contents should be shining a mythic glow past the open lid, illuminating her gleeful face and reflecting from her now very avaricious eyes. Bring it, Smaug.