Before Scott had made it outside, the girl, Elysia, called down a warning to him. The veteran soldier cursed; the loudness of his armor and limits to his range of movement that it imposed made him relatively easy to sneak up on. This was his own fault, really. Even so, he didn't have to spend any extra effort searching for whoever was tailing him, as he dropped his cover immediately and began issuing threats.

Scott learned a few things about this person immediately. Foremost, this was a cocky bastard, who figured that he would be able to rob two heavily-armed combatants with (from what Scott could see from the corner of his eye) a pea shooter. Secondly, he was relying heavily on the intimidation factor, given his modulated voice and trying to creep them out by using their names. Scott was unimpressed. Lastly, this guy was a moron; shooting Scott's fuel tank would just result in the dumbass being sprayed with pressurized flamer fuel, thus making him all the easier to light up. Military-grade flamethrowers were designed to be shot at, and it would take a shot from a plasma weapon to reliably ignite a fuel tank. Furthermore, this idiot was standing immediately behind Scott, well within the blast radius should his tank ignite. They clearly weren't dealing with a mental giant here, but Scott didn't really expect much from wastelanders.

That said, though, Scott didn't want to reach for his sidearm in case his tank was indeed ruptured. He also didn't want to use his incinerator, which carried the same risk of igniting the leak. That really only left one option. Rather than drop his weapons, Scott spun around with surprising speed, swinging the his Heavy Incinerator at the would-be stickup man. The considerable, solid weight of the incinerator, combined with Scott's power-armor enhanced strength, would be sufficient to send the average person flying through the weakened walls on either side of them.