"Amata!" Red exclaimed before launching herself at Amata and wrapping her in a bear hug. Well, as bearly as the rather short medic girl could manage. She always was... rather enthusiastic to see Amata, and probably not just because the laser beam spammer had been the one that let her out of the jail cell and protected her from a hail of super mutant bullets while the squad crept down to the basement in search of Shorty.<br/><br/>Still... she didn't mind being appreciated. "Hey there! Been a while," Amata said, returning the hug. "Town still in one piece, I see?"<br/><br/>"Oh yes!" Red said with a nod, letting go of Amata. "Fortified, even," she added, pointing at the layers of sandbags now reinforcing the junk walls of before.<br/><br/>"Aye, I heard about the project," Amata nodded. Of course she had - Amata was the one that ordered it, if remotely. One part security, one part teaching the post-kids to pull their weight in society. "Also heard you got a merc here?"<br/><br/>"Over there," Red thumbed at the Club House (a name which' origins were lost in time and couldn't be determined even if someone suddenly summoned the greatest of archaeologists and archivists to study the mystery). "Kind of odd, I suppose," the Big Town medic shrugged. "But who isn't?" Seeing Amata's questioning look, Red shrugged again. "Wears a suit. Yeah. A suit, out in the wastes. Also, she has spent pretty much the entire time she's been here drinking and expecting you to just beam down with a flying saucer or something."<br/><br/>"Yeah, we're on a tight budget," Amata deadpanned. "The flying saucers' fuel is reserved for high importance missions only, like collecting coffee and porn. Speaking of..." the soldier smirked, fished a neatly wrapped package from her backpack and handed it to Red. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I got a merc to evaluate... Wish me luck."<br/><br/>Red ahem'd, "hiding" the package behind her back and conveniently forgetting that: a) she had her back to most of the town; and b) a lot of it was for sharing, anyway. "Yeah... good luck. She seemed to check out, but you'd know such things better than I."<br/><br/>With a nod, Amata moved pass the de facto mayor of Big Town and towards the Club House. Removing her goggles the moment she stepped in, her eyes adjusted fairly quickly to the new levels of light, taking in the scene. The suited-up wastelander lounging on the sofa, and the empty bottle of whiskey and the half-way bottle of whiskey in her hand. Dread crept around within Amata as her mind rushed a series of scenes and images of just how totally IntAg had dropped the ball on this one's worthiness. Then, she mentally shook it off - after all, the woman had apparently been waiting for a while and it wasn't like fully-trained, well-disciplined soldiers actively serving didn't hit the bottle when not on active duty.<br/><br/>This... this hopefully could be salvaged yet.<br/><br/>"Amata McKenzie, sergeant of the Crimson Dawn," she introduced herself. "I presume you are the mercenary I was notified about?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>