Achilles peaked out the window as the Vault Dweller reacted to the sounds of some sort of aircraft.  He was stunned for a moment, having never seen a working flying machine.  Out popped a cadre of heavily armored soldiers.  This was not the sort of people that he wanted around, and he already knew that.  

Achilles left the still-unfixed machine pistol on the counter top, and checked his gear as quickly as possible.  He had fifteen armor piercing rounds.  They were rare, he had been saving them for exactly this sort of thing.  He loaded eight into his trail carbine and handed it to Patrick.  

"Full magazine, don't waste it.  Only fire if I start, don't get caught.  If I die, surrender."  This was different from his usual instructions, it was clear he took this more seriously than raiders.  


As he spoke he was loading six of the piercers into his revolver.  He tossed the extra one to Patrick.  "I won't have time to reload.  Here's some normals, but they won't do any good.  Try to hit joints," he didn't honestly have much faith in the kid's marksmanship, but if he was going to be up front he wanted someone getting his back.  

Finally, Achilles unbelted his normal holster and shoved his revolver into the hidden shoulder holster.  He walked out to follow Albus.  When shit hit the fan, he hoped to keep the bearded weirdo alive.


He walked up behind Albus, apparently an unarmed citizen.  

"It's a wild land, you can't ask us to just drop our guns.  'Sides, don't that violate some kind of constituation here in America?"