Pseudo-nim
What layer of irony am I in again?
Amelia mostly kept her opinions to herself, especially now that her plans of getting any sort of paperwork done and equipment calibration in her office were delayed. In truth, she was fairly curious of the locals, wondering what sort of different cultural and potentially medical discoveries they've made that could separate them from the average human. There's plenty of assumptions and speculations, but considering that its been all but confirmed that a civilization thrived in this planet meant that the possibility of scientific discoveries were almost assured. That said, the orders of simply gathering samples and avoiding the local inhabitants were fairly standard, but that didn't mean much for the medic. She's had her fair share of rougher ops during her time in the Special Forces, so this should be a walk in the park. Of course, she's trying not to jinx anything, but it's quite hard to take a civilization seriously when they're about a millennia or so behind in terms of technology.
Following the team silently to the armory, she made her way to her own locker. Fairly standard affair to be perfectly honest, though she could go for a bit of customization in its appearance. Signing in with her biometrics, the locker hissed and expanded, revealing a tri-fold design that placed her rig at the center and equipment on the side panels. First was the Vanguard-class Rig, customized and calibrated down to the minute pressure for the recoil dampeners and fall compensators. The Rig station moved into place as she stood, fitting the sleek exoskeleton around her. Magnetic locks sealed around her limbs and joints for ease of movement while the helmet wrapped around her head, leaving the face plate open. Meant for protection at all times, the helmet defaults to completely sealing the wearer's head. However, the interlocking plates and locks underneath the smooth surface can usually unfold and compartmentalize to fully expose the head, usually by lightly pressing around the correct sensors in sequence to begin unlocking the helmet itself. Would she do it? Not likely. Years of combat has made it muscle memory to be as armored as possible, especially now with access to the advanced technology Pathfinders are subject to. The jets were the last thing she needed to make sure that were working, mostly by having it rescan her entire body to make sure that proper propulsion was made during any sort of high intensity movement.
The hand grips on her palm briefly hummed, signaling that her neural implants and the Smart Links are ready to calibrate. Grabbing the Thunderbolt, its smart link immediately connected, several prompts appearing in her HUD to show the weapon's current state and tuning itself as it scanned her biometrics. The internal changes of the rifle may seem subtle, but due to its ability to properly suit itself to its user by recognizing behavioral patterns when it comes to handling the gun makes it that more streamlined despite its bulky and heavy appearance. From preparing to eject a magazine and adjusting the position of the slot for ease of reload to the gyroscopic barrel for consistent accuracy in various positions, the Thunderbolt was meant to be the cutting edge rifle for frontline skirmishers. Not to mention the neural targeting software that can accurately predict bullet impact and trajectory at longer ranges makes it unparalleled when it comes to firefights. Once the rifle had finished reorganizing its internal machinery and properly synced into her own neural network, she holstered it onto the magnetic locks on her back.
The Tundra took a longer time to sync and calibrate, thanks to the software that required a full Rig scan in order to prepare for real time adjustments when it came to the high speed maneuvers the Rig was equipped to accomplish. Choking the barrel, turning on the positional correction and gyroscopic sensors to adjust the barrel for a full 360 degrees of freedom in all directions when fired required a bit of time to perform, but it wasn't particularly long. Compact and sleek, the Tundra was holstered onto her right thigh for ease of access, her mag locks clicking.
The SLG-50 Predator was the final weapon, the massive pistol requiring very little maintenance thanks to its simplistic design. To most people, the recoil was unbearable without a Rig, and even then, recoil compensators were needed to accurately fire this pistol. Holstered to her left thigh should it be necessary as a fallback weapon.
With her weapons ready, she loaded up her standard medical supplies in her wrist compartment. Thank god that they were fairly minimalistic in size or else she'd have to carry a bag around while zipping in the air. Same goes with her ordinance for the Halo trophy system on her right shoulder, each loaded into the compartment where the third arm can load itself with the proper grenade using mental commands.
When her systems gave the go ahead, her entire rig hummed and glowed a dim sapphire glow, silencing itself once she began to walk over to the rest of her team, making secondary checks on medical supplies and sample equipment just in case she missed anything. "All ready on my end," she said, giving a lazy two-finger salute.
Following the team silently to the armory, she made her way to her own locker. Fairly standard affair to be perfectly honest, though she could go for a bit of customization in its appearance. Signing in with her biometrics, the locker hissed and expanded, revealing a tri-fold design that placed her rig at the center and equipment on the side panels. First was the Vanguard-class Rig, customized and calibrated down to the minute pressure for the recoil dampeners and fall compensators. The Rig station moved into place as she stood, fitting the sleek exoskeleton around her. Magnetic locks sealed around her limbs and joints for ease of movement while the helmet wrapped around her head, leaving the face plate open. Meant for protection at all times, the helmet defaults to completely sealing the wearer's head. However, the interlocking plates and locks underneath the smooth surface can usually unfold and compartmentalize to fully expose the head, usually by lightly pressing around the correct sensors in sequence to begin unlocking the helmet itself. Would she do it? Not likely. Years of combat has made it muscle memory to be as armored as possible, especially now with access to the advanced technology Pathfinders are subject to. The jets were the last thing she needed to make sure that were working, mostly by having it rescan her entire body to make sure that proper propulsion was made during any sort of high intensity movement.
The hand grips on her palm briefly hummed, signaling that her neural implants and the Smart Links are ready to calibrate. Grabbing the Thunderbolt, its smart link immediately connected, several prompts appearing in her HUD to show the weapon's current state and tuning itself as it scanned her biometrics. The internal changes of the rifle may seem subtle, but due to its ability to properly suit itself to its user by recognizing behavioral patterns when it comes to handling the gun makes it that more streamlined despite its bulky and heavy appearance. From preparing to eject a magazine and adjusting the position of the slot for ease of reload to the gyroscopic barrel for consistent accuracy in various positions, the Thunderbolt was meant to be the cutting edge rifle for frontline skirmishers. Not to mention the neural targeting software that can accurately predict bullet impact and trajectory at longer ranges makes it unparalleled when it comes to firefights. Once the rifle had finished reorganizing its internal machinery and properly synced into her own neural network, she holstered it onto the magnetic locks on her back.
The Tundra took a longer time to sync and calibrate, thanks to the software that required a full Rig scan in order to prepare for real time adjustments when it came to the high speed maneuvers the Rig was equipped to accomplish. Choking the barrel, turning on the positional correction and gyroscopic sensors to adjust the barrel for a full 360 degrees of freedom in all directions when fired required a bit of time to perform, but it wasn't particularly long. Compact and sleek, the Tundra was holstered onto her right thigh for ease of access, her mag locks clicking.
The SLG-50 Predator was the final weapon, the massive pistol requiring very little maintenance thanks to its simplistic design. To most people, the recoil was unbearable without a Rig, and even then, recoil compensators were needed to accurately fire this pistol. Holstered to her left thigh should it be necessary as a fallback weapon.
With her weapons ready, she loaded up her standard medical supplies in her wrist compartment. Thank god that they were fairly minimalistic in size or else she'd have to carry a bag around while zipping in the air. Same goes with her ordinance for the Halo trophy system on her right shoulder, each loaded into the compartment where the third arm can load itself with the proper grenade using mental commands.
When her systems gave the go ahead, her entire rig hummed and glowed a dim sapphire glow, silencing itself once she began to walk over to the rest of her team, making secondary checks on medical supplies and sample equipment just in case she missed anything. "All ready on my end," she said, giving a lazy two-finger salute.