Par sighed, and spoke, calmly:

"I suppose discretion is the better part of valor. Will be leaving now." And with that, he, Carrie, and his bodyguards slowly turned their backs and walked out snobbily. Hopefully, that guardsman would not have them watched.

As they went onwards, Par felt frustrated, but only just a little angry. The moment he would find a convinient place to change his clothes, perhaps an alleyway - even the Saerveoux District had them - he would say:

"Well, mission failed. Let's use Plan B." Plan B was to go to the Prouix District in order to finally listen to Napoleon V. Par sighed; he liked beautiful women, especially beautiful, strong, women, but he had been looking forward to seducing a real Monarch (then again, he was probably straight anyway)...

A disheartened hour later, Par reached the Prouix District, ready to listen to whatever passionate, rousing speech there might be.

@Ordure, @Tuxedo Fox, @Lord Coake, @Ulstermann, @Vulkan

@Tuxedo Fox

Carson shook his head, slinging his weapon over his shoulder. "No, man, I'm not one of them." He nodded at the Order troops who were scouring the building for any enemy survivors. Sharp cracks echoed when they found one, putting a bullet through their heads with as little thought as stepping on a radroach. "I was just passing through, looking for work, when some Marauders jumped me-those bastards killed most of my men and sunk our little boat. I only just made it to shore, and shit's been non stop ever since." 

The major lit a cigar,  peering at the newcomer. "So your Eyebot led you here?" He asked. "Yeah, the Mister Handy put out a distress call to all bots in the area. I guess that's why it rushed..." He trailed off as the Handy floated back in, carrying a tray with two fragile crystal flutes balancing on it. "Your Bordeaux, Monsieur." It informed the newcomer, giving him one and Carson the other. Carson was awkward with the delicate glass, sipping gingerly. But the wine tasted fine, washing some of the smoke from his throat. 

"The name's Tom Carson." He went on after finishing his drink. "Headhunter and soldier for hire extraordinaire." He snorted at his irony, walking past the goggle-wearing newcomer and stopping in the rubble that had once been the rear of the building. 

"Hell of a welcome." The major echoed the newcomer. "So what's your name, pal?" He asked , turning back to him. An idea was forming in his mind. "You say you own a boat? Does it have a radio on board?"

Crack. Another revolutionary had taken a round to the back of the head.

@Letter Bee

In the largest open square of the district Napoleon V was halfway through her speech, rousing up the crowd of dirty, impoverished people who had come to hear her.  She was an imposing figure, sporting black riot armour and wielding a fine blade that she slashed through the air to give emphasis to her words. She wasn't classically beautiful; her nose was a little too long, her jaw slightly swollen like it had been punched recently. Her armour bore scorches and bullet impacts. But her eyes flashed with fiery fervour, entrancing those who listened.

"Mais nous, mes enfants, nous sommes le futur! Peu importe le nombre de sbires que le Roi nous envoi! Car le chair eat faible mais Notre foi est immortel!" (But we, my children, we are the future! It matters little how many henchmen the King throws at us! For though flesh is weak, our faith is immortal!) 

@Ulstermann
The sight of the man who would come to introduce himself as Carson smoking a nice fat cigar was to much for Boss to take; within moments he had his scarf pulled down and was nursing a cigarette of his own. These days he couldn't see someone else smoking and not immediately light up himself.

Boss listened intently for a moment as one of the first people who had bothered to actually answer his questions explained how his recently purchased eyebot had practically been hijacked by the very Mr. Handy unit that was now offering Boss a fancy looking glass of red liquid. Without hesitation Boss downed the whole thing like some kind of wasteland wanderer that hadn't seen water in days, the drink immediately making his rugged facial features contort into a look of pure bitterness-he'd never tasted anything like the odd drink. Delicately he returned the crystal flute to the tray Mr. Handy still held out-he felt like if he just looked at the expensive drinking glass the wrong way it would break the beautiful creation; so he was rather relieved to be rid of it.

"Hell of a welcome." Carson repeated in a tone Boss could relate too. "So what's your name, pal? You say you own a boat? Does it have a radio on board?"

Boss had to admit, the radio question had thrown him off-but he didn't see the harm in being honest with the man, especially when it came to a piece of equipment he and his crew actually didn't use. "Names Boss." He grunted in response; not bothering to give his real name. "As far as the radio goes well..." He scratched his forehead with the tip of the iron sights on his revolver as if lost in thought. "We got one, yeah. Been on that damn boat for four months though and We've never been able to get it to do more then hiss static at us." He shrugged after finishing the thought and without even knowing it he'd gone to stand next to Carson and survey the damage from the recent Revolution attack. "Mind you none of us are damned radio experts. I'd be willing to eh...negotiate a trade, if your interested?" He asked, letting the question linger in the air as if he didn't care one way or another.

The truth was he took any opportunity to make a cap.

@Tuxedo Fox @Ordure

"Nice to meet you, Boss." Carson answered as the man came to stand beside him, staring at the mess the revolutionaries had left behind.  "I'd be willing to negotiate a trade?" Boss went on in response to Carson's query. 

"That could be arranged." Carson answered. He stopped the Ghoul that Cade had appointed as his replacement as commander of the Trading Post, concealing his disgust at having to talk to a walking corpse. "Look, Cade gave me a job before these bastards attacked. I'm on my way to report to Captain Floure in the Proulx District. Please tell Cade as much, and wish him the best from me." The Ghoul nodded and walked off. 

Carson turned back to Boss. "Look, pal, if you don't mind can we get the Hell out of here? I don't want to be a target for those revolutionary bastards just yet." 

Carson moved off, still talking. "We can make a deal for your radio. All I want is to be able to use it. Those fuckers who jumped us out in the Gulf-" He pointed towards the sea- "Followed us ashore. One of my guys led them away so I could make it here, because I was wounded. As you can see." He patted his bandages. "So my friend has a radio on him. I want to see if I can get in touch."

@Ulstermann
Boss couldn't tell if Carson disliked ghouls in general or just the particular one standing in front of them; iether way he shrugged it off for now, it's not like it was any of his business anyways. As he walked with the man he listened to how he simply wanted to use their radio in an attempt to reach a lost friend-Boss had to admit hearing this made him feel slightly guilty for trying to make a profit off the poor guys plight. Not bad enough to take his proposal back mind you, but bad enough that when it came down to it he'd probably just charge the guy ten or fifteen caps.

Boss didn't need to be asked twice if he wanted to get out of the area-hell, that's what he'd been trying to do from the start. "Come on A-H." He barked grumpily at the droid; clearly still somewhat upset with his renegade nature. Together he and the droid fell in step beside Carson.

At the mention of raiders again Boss spit on the ground in a show of disgust (actually hitting a passing merchant on the foot who in turn gave an equally upset look.) "I gotcha, we been dealing with those bastards ever since coming into the area. Buncha sons of whores." Clearly Boss was not a fan of the local raiding populace; it was rather apparent by the way he spoke he'd lost a few good men to those thieving lunatics. "Don't know about any Proulx District" He completely butchered the pronunciation "But my boat aint far off if you wana try your luck at the radio. I'll even make you a deal, you geme five caps and promise to blow the next raiders head off you see and we'll call it good. Deal?"

Not conventionally beautiful, but with a fiery personality and fevrent eyes that make up for that. Par found himself getting less and less disappointed in being forced by fate to side with Napoleon V and her Revolution; at least the female general can be approached easily. I can see why people love her, were the 19-year old boy's thoughts. Well, time to approach.

It was evident that the crowds would not be bribed or talked into letting him through; nevertheless, it would be bad for his relations with the female general for him to just have his bodyguards brutally plow through the crowd. So, he was going to have to softly push.

With a nod, he and his bodyguards began to advance, navigating their way through the tide of people surrounding the female general in her soapbox, the guards saying:

"Coming through, coming through!" as they pushed and pulled against the surrounding masses as softly as they could, which was very often not at all. Par knew this, he had to reach Napoleon V, not just to finally approach her about joining the Revolution, but because he wanted to see how her speech ended...

@Ordure, @Tuxedo Fox, @Lord Coake, @Ulstermann, @Vulkan

@Tuxedo Fox

"Damn right it's a deal." Carson said at once, before Boss could raise the price . "Five caps it is. And don't worry about the District, I just told the Ghoul so that Cade knows I'm heading that way and can vouch for me with whoever Captain Floure is. For now, though, your boat seems like a damned good idea. Lead the way." 

A couple of minutes later Carson spoke again. "So where you from, pal? You're clearly not a local, you're as confused about this damn place and it's ridiculous politics as I am." Which wasn't strictly true. Carson had spent many hours trawling through the External Security Bureau's files on the region. But intelligence gathering was his trade, and getting some facts about the traders and such that frequented the city and it's environs was as good as radio intercepts or scouting missions.

SECONDARY QUEST- A Light in the Darkness

A flock of Eyebots painted in the livery of the Orleans Order roam the city, playing music, advertisements, and announcements. Over the last couple of hours a new announcement has been playing amongst the propaganda, Old World crooners, and adverts offering "cheapest guns in the south!" It runs thus-

"This is a message to the brave, the skilled, the loyal! His most Excellent Majesty the King has given the officers of his Order the duty of forever cleansing the shores of our Kingdom of the piratical filth who call themselves "Marauders". This morning, brave officers of Gun 34 hit and badly damaged the pirate vessel "Southern Star" off the coast. The ship unfortunately did not sink and has wrecked at Marat Lighthouse. These pirate scum have taken control of the lighthouse and extinguished the light which guides our trade.

The Order henceforth is offering a fee of 2000 caps to any citizen who can take back the lighthouse for the Order. A further 1000 caps bounty is available for the life of the Captain of e pirate ship, Samuel Scarrow. Report to Senior Paladin McGovern at the Bastille once the job is done. 

This message will repeat throughout the day. Vive le Roi!" 

@Ulstermann
"Probly somewhere you've never hearda, big place called Chicaghoul. It's way up North, lived there for years while workin for the Redfield Caravan Company." Boss quickly answered in his gruff voice-for some reason the man was easy to talk to. "What about you? Said you've been to the ocean? I've been tryin to reach the coast since I was a kid, damn great lake had me fooled for years. Must be somethin to see." The last sentence was said more for himself then Carson, Boss obviously briefly lost in thought about the fabled ocean.

As the two continued to talk Boss guided them along as best he could; which wasn't that good at all, actually getting lost for a good five minutes before catching sight of the dock by chance. Of course he didn't let any of this on to Carson, Boss walking with such purpose the only the keenest eye would call him on his bullshit.

---

Finally they made their way to the still rather busy docks, Boss quite happy at the sight that his old garbage barge was somehow still afloat. No doubt Carson would have been dumbfounded that the old bullet riddled burned up boat still sat atop the water. So many people still flooded the docks that it caused Boss to literally have to shove his way past individuals at times (which he did remorselessly.) Apparently the merchants and traders had business so important it didn't matter a small scale war had just taken place. Boss laughed inwardly when he realized he was such one crazy individual.

"Here she is, home sweet home." Boss said as he swung himself aboard the barge, his tone made it hard to tell if he was joking or not.

As soon as the two men set foot aboard the barge they were greeted by the ghoul known as Ted. "Heya Boss, looks like you survived that shitstorm out there. And here I was weaping over the thought I had two split all this sweet loot two ways now...ah well. Oh SHIT!" Ted noticed Asshead witched bobbed behind Boss low to the ground, the sight of which almost made the little robot look self conscious. "You got me a fuckin robot! Oh man Boss-I swear I'll never talk bad about you behind your back again. Except when your not here, of course. For real though man this is fuckin epi-" He seemed to notice Carson for the first time (or atleast chose to finally acknowledge him), sizing the man up for a moment the look on his face made it rather apparent he didn't like what he saw. "So who's the smoothskin, Boss?" His words dripped with venom as he locked eyes with Carson.

@Tuxedo Fox

"You're right-never heard of it." Carson said affably, throwing his cigar away and lighting another. Boss asked the major where he was from as he kind of led him through the hustle and bustle of the streets, hopefully towards his boat. "I'm from DC originally." He told Boss, which was half-true. "Moved about a lot-shot things here, there, and everywhere till I got  wind of the Order. Seems they're hiring freelancers to take on the Revolution, so I thought I'd give it a go. Set out on a little boat with some pals' then those fuckers got us." Boss asked if he'd been on the ocean.

 "The ocean?" The officer said, thinking. "It's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. When you're on a lake, a river, whatever, you know land is somewhere, even if you vacant see it. The ocean just goes on and on and on. You know that before the War people used to cross it for months on end? They'd be trapped on a ship for months. No women, no land, no nothing." He shivered. "Crazy bastards." 

"Here she is. Home sweet home." Boss said, as Carson elbowed aside an over eager vendor on the dockside. 

Home for Boss was a battered barge that looked like it had seen action at the Anchorage front, back before the war that had blown the world to Hell. 

Carson blew out a mouthful of blue smoke. "Nice." Was all he said, following his new-friend? Business partner?associate? Carson didn't know- onto the deck. As soon as the duo did a ragged Ghoul who looked to be as old as the barge he crewed on launched into an exited spiel. He was especially excited about the Eyebot, seeming to think it was for him. When he finally ran out of steam he looked Carson over with displeasure. Carson watched him back with disdain. 

"So who's the smoothskin, Boss?" He asked at last, voice venomous. Carson gave him a knife-thin smile and leaned forward a little. Although his years in the field had removed most of his prejudice towards Ghouls, he still didn't like them all that much. He certainly wasn't going to take any lip from them, that was damn sure.

"The smoothskin is the guy about to kick whatever teeth you have left down your ratty little throat if you call him a "smoothskin" one more time." He said coldly. "Got that, you walking maggot farm?" He spat over the side of the barge in case he hadn't made his feelings clear.

@Ulstermann
"Rev-OH-Lewsh-in" Boss sounded the foreign word out as Carson spoke, clearly trying his best to make sense of the word. "Guessin those were the guys attacking the red coats-er, Order-eh?" He asked rhetorically as he let Carson keep speaking. He quickly clammed up when Carson talked about the ocean being a nightmare. He couldn't-no, wouldn't, believe that the ocean could be a horrible place. It just couldn't.

"You know that before the War people used to cross it for months on end? They'd be trapped on a ship for months. No women, no land, no nothing." Carson shivered. "Crazy bastards."

Boss bit his tongue; the mere idea of what Carson described not only sounded like quite the adventure but an extremely peaceful life when compared to the constant killing of the wasteland.

Then Ted showed up, making the idea of a secluded boat on a vast ocean sounding all the more appealing.

---

Ted momentarily flashed Boss a glance, clearly half expecting his long time crewman to have his back in the situation that had unfolded between himself and Carson. Sadly Boss only gave him a stone cold expression-the sight causing Ted to throw his hands up in the air in a mocking I surrender stance. "Woah woah woah, Sorry there buddy. Forgot my place-Its not like I live here or anything afterall, you know? Who am I to speak my mind?" He let out a forced laugh before he started to rant again-only Boss quickly cut him off.

"Ted..." Boss had to keep himself from sighing. "Why don't you go and see the town buddy? You can even take a few pouches and bring back some goodies, I still owe Cat a dinner afterall."

"Yes sir, buddy."

Flint watched Ted storm off the boat, quickly losing sight of him in the shifting crowds. He felt slightly bad watching the man go; honestly he deserved better from Boss. "Sorry about that." Boss spat at Carson as he lead the man further onto the boat, the pair passing the fortune of supplies that was haphazardly strewn about on the ships deck. "He's a good hand, just has a mouth on him. Sure you know the type."

Quickly they reached the metal cabin that housed all of the ships controls, Boss forcefully began banging on the large metal. "Open up Cat, its me. Got a local that's paid good caps to use the radio." As soon as he finished speaking the sound of various locks being opened sounded from behind the thick metal cabin door, quickly followed by the squealing sound of metal on metal as the door began opening.

"Speaking of Caps though..." He let the words linger, clearly expecting the meager sum before letting Carson use the radio. Clearly he was a business man first and foremost.

@Tuxedo Fox

Carson watched the Ghoul storm off the barge, still muttering under his breath.

"He's a good hand." Boss went on, "just has a mouth on him. Sure you know the type." 

"I do." Carson answered, following Boss through the masses of supplies stocked on the barge deck. "In my opinion, if you let a stranger insult you from your first meeting, how are you ever going to get any respect from him from then on?" He shrugged as Boss hammered on a door leading into the barge. "I despise bad manners, especially from someone I don't even know. I would never have called him a maggot farm if he hadn't labelled me a smoothskin from the get go." 

Boss held his hand out for the agreed amount of caps. Carson handed them over willingly before stepping into the cabin. "Hey there," He said, nodding at the woman who had opened the door. "Where's the radio at?"

@Ulstermann
Boss let out a brief chuckle as he pocketed the handful of caps, not even bothering to count the meager sum. "Try livien with the guy." he said as they made their way into the shack sized control room. The room was somewhat small, standing at about seven feet tall there was enough room for about three people of average height to lay on the floor if need be-that was if you threw the large "only slight torn up" leather chair out onto the decks; Cat jokingly referred to this as her Captains Chair. Aside from the chair they drug into the room there wasn't much else to see aside from a pile of food and water stacked neatly in the corner: unfortunately like most things from back home the room was covered in the inescapable old world filth that seemed to plague any structure from Boss's home.

Despite spending most of her time in the trashy room the women known as Cat still sported a rather genuine smile; a look that went rather nicely with her golden blonde hair and sharp facial features. Like usual her eyes were hidden behind the large Aviator sunglasses she always seemed to sport, the dark black reflective surfaces causing Carson to look at his own face as she stared him down. Unlike Ted though she kept smiling, giving Boss a nod as the pair entered the room. Boss immediately noticed she was clutching that book in her right hand that she was always reading, the half scorched old world paper back that she called War and Pieces or something. No matter how much ribbing Boss gave her she always seemed to read and reread that damn book.

"Howdy." Cat said while giving the dark black cowboy hat on her head a slight pull with her left hand in a friendly gesture. Where she had come up with a cowboy hat in the short time Boss was gone was completely beyond him-probably a passing trader no doubt. He had to admit she pulled the look off though; the well worn hat, glasses, and army fatigues giving her the heir of a woman that knew her way around the wasteland despite her gentle features. And as Boss had seen in the last four months she damn well could.

"As you can see there isn't much to look at. Got the main controls and the ships wheel." Cat gestured at the chest high control console in front of her that faced the front of the ship, a large sturdy looking ships wheel likewise centered in between the various controls. "And then there is the radio." She pointed to the rather sturdy if somewhat dirty looking contraption that resembled a large metallic tower with a built in computer panel; various wires and cords lead to a small hole in the cabins ceiling that snaked up into a large antennae on the roof. "We haven't had any luck with it though. Old Pete swore he almost had it fixed..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, poor Old Pete..." Boss picked up, as if finishing some horrific unspoken story. Cat was quick to chime back in though before the mood got any darker.

"Feel free to try your hand at it though. Names Cat by the way." Putting her book in the nook of her arm she then extended her hand towards Carson, determined to crush his hand in a handshake.

@Tuxedo Fox

Carson followed Boss into the control room for his barge. It was essentially what the major would have expected; a rusting collection of Pre-War tech painstakingly maintained by whatever odds and ends the crew could scrape together. 

The rooms' occupant, a pretty blonde wearing a cowboy hat, touched the brim of her headgear in welcome before stepping forward and shaking Carson's hand. The major smiled back at her. She had a Hell of a handshake, all right. She showed him where the ship's radio was, lamenting the fate if the man who had last worked on it. 

"Thanks." Carson said, leaning over the set and scanning the dials. "Looks like Pete did mist of the work for me." He muttered aloud after a couple of minutes' scrutiny. "He reset the receiver to default. Must have been trying to tune into the local radio stations." He fiddled with one of the dials for a moment, rewarded with a howl of static. "Yeah, nice one." He was Half-speaking to himself. "He was trying to scan the wavelengths manually. Makes sense, he didn't..." He trailed off, working the buttons underneath the dials. "And boom!" He crowed, as the voice of an Order broadcaster filled the cabin. "Vive le Roi!" Blared the radio. Carson lowered the volume a little, picking up the radio mic attached to the side. 

"Now all that needs done is to calibrate the output...Art, this is Tom Carson. Can you hear me? Art Hartmann, this is Carson speaking. Can you hear me?" Nothing but hissing static. Carson tried again. 

"Hartmann, this is Carson. Come in." 

A few tries later and Arthur Hartmann's voice, mangled but understandable, came from the radio. 

"...arson! Thought you'd...ven up on me!" 

"Not a chance, pal." Carson said, slamming his fist against the bulkhead in jubilation. "Are you at the location?" 

"...astards kept coming....to keep moving inland....ircled round. Holed up...ighthouse but there's a....hip that crashed here too. More Marauders th.. you can shake a stick at."

"The lighthouse?" Carson swore feelingly. "Alright. I'll make my way to you. Are you wounded? What shape is the T-60 in?" 

"...ot a scratch. The armour's in...ad way. I'll have to abandon it if...eeps up." 

"Hold your position as best you can. I'm on my way." Carson signed off, thinking hard. He turned to Boss, who was still in the room. 

"Look, pal, this lighthouse. It's the same one the radio's been going on about, I reckon. You fancy making some caps? Get me to that lighthouse. We waste the scum there, recover my guy, and put the light back on. Hell, it might even get us into the Order's good graces. You might get a better price for your stuff. Your barge could get us plenty close, if we stuck close to shore." He took a deep drag of his cigar. "After all, you wanted to see the ocean..." 

@Ulstermann
"Holy shit-He got it workin Boss." Cat spat in clear astonishment at how quickly Carson had been able to pick up a signal.

"Meh, beginners luck probably." Boss spat, trying his best to act unimpressed. He was a horrible actor.

---

Boss left the cabin halfway through the radio transmission, returning moments later with his large pump action shotgun. He'd already decided that he was going to offer Carson his help moments before the man began listing reasons why it would benefit Boss to do so. Everything Carson said made sense too: his logic sound in both the possible monetary and reputation rewards completing such a task would bring. But those reasons weren't what made Boss decide to lend his gun (and more importantly, boat) to Carson-the fact of that matter was that there was a man out there who was likely being attacked by some of the very men and women that killed the people Boss had been responsible for; the twelve faces of the crewmen he'd lost in the area flashing before his eyes as he loaded slug after slug into the shotgun he held.

"Not gonna lie Carson, this piecea garbage is just as likely to sink. But fuck it, it's gotten us this far. Cat?" He nodded to the woman who wordlessly slid into her large leather seat as if understanding exactly what Boss wanted, her familiar smile still hanging from her lips despite the fact they were now steering the barge towards their possible deaths-or even worse, loss of merchandise.

Without waiting Boss strode out onto the dock where Asshead seemed to be investigating that vast amount of random and rare objects on board. "Hey A-H?" Boss asked in a demanding voice, the little robot responding with his own inquisitive chirp. "Go ahead and keep an eye out at the fronta the barge here." He gestured towards the front of the ship with his shotgun. "Let us know if ya see anything that looks like it means to shoot or rip our faces off. And feel free to shoot at em if they do."

Asshead let out a few happy beeps before floating off towards the front of the boat, as if the permission for possible violence was all he'd been waiting for. Ignoring the homicidal robot Boss quickly made short work of untying all the ropes that kept them tethered to the docks-hopefully Ted wouldn't show up to find an empty peer.

With the skill of someone who'd bee piloting the same vessel day after day Cat pulled out of port rather smoothly before turning the ship in the direction of the Ocean. "You gotta tell me where to go though, allright guy? Don't know the waters around here at all, despite what it may look like." Cat laughed at Carson as she steered the clumsy barge onward.

"Hey Carson!" Boss's voice barked from out on the deck after several minutes "Get your ass out here, got a lil somethin for ya. Call it a company perk." As Carson exited the cabin he could see Boss standing over a small wooden crate that he had broken into, the wooden box stuffed with straw held what looked like little dark grey baseballs-on closer inspection however it was quite obvious it was about half a dozen fragmentation grenades. Boss tossed one to Carson like it was a toy and not some deadly explosive that could likely kill them both and sink the barge in one fell swoop.

"Can't wait to see that Ocean."

@Tuxedo Fox

SECONDARY QUEST-A Light in the Darkness

The barge pulled away from the docks with a surprising elegance. Probably the skill of the pilot, Carson thought as he braced himself against the bulkhead, smoke dribbling from his cigar.  "I don't know the waters around here at all." The woman called Cat said. Carson nodded and spent the next several minutes directing her around some of the larger obstacles he remembered from his ESB files. 

"Hey Carson!" Boss called from the deck. "Get you ass out here, got a lil somethin for ya. Call it a company perk." Carson left the cabin and crossed the deck to where Boss was rooting through a crate filled with straw. He tossed Carson one I'd the contents, which the major caught. He held up the frag grenade, nodding happily. "This I like." He said, tossing the grenade into the air and catching it again. "Could really fuck up someone's day with this." 

"Can't wait to see that ocean." Boss sounded happy at least. 

"Yeah, its certainly something." Carson agreed, going over to the rail to watch the Trading Post slide by. He took a final pull of his cigar before throwing the butt into the water.

As the barge got closer to the ocean Carson found himself uneasy. The last time he had been out in the Gulf he had been sunk. He hoped he was just being paranoid.  Asshead, the little Eyebot that had caused Boss and Carson to meet, chirped excitedly from the bow where it was scanning for any unwelcome visitors. Carson headed that way, making calming motions with his hands (although he wasn't sure if robots responded to that kind of thing.) "Take it easy, little guy." He said. "Its an Order customs boat. It won't shoot at us. Hopefully." The Eyebot bobbed around, seemingly still excited. He was to be disappointed, though. The Order vessel only gave the battered barge a cursory glance before moving on. 

As the ocean appeared at the ships bow, stretching across the horizon, Carson gripped the rail until his knuckles turned white. Now came the fun part: creeping down the coast whilst hoping no Marauders sent them to the bottom.

And, sure enough, Marauders appeared. Two small red-painted boats came roaring out of a secluded bay. 

"Fuck!" Carson cursed. "Boss! BOSS! Look alive! Some bastards are looking for a shoot em up!" As he spoke he clicked his safety off. "You too, little guy." He told AH. "Charge up your lasers or whatever. You'll be needing them if you don't want to end up a pile of spare parts!"

@Ulstermann
SECONDARY QUEST-A Light in the Darkness

For one brief and fleeting moment Boss made out the ocean on the horizon, the serene and peaceful sight seemingly everything he had dreamed it to be for so many years-that was until this beautiful scene was shattered by the sound of two boats ripping through the waters. The outraged look on Boss's face made it clear he had taken this as some sort of personal attack.

"Fuck!" Carson cursed. "Boss! BOSS! Look alive! Some bastards are looking for a shoot em up!" As he spoke he clicked his safety off. "You too, little guy." He told AH. "Charge up your lasers or whatever. You'll be needing them if you don't want to end up a pile of spare parts!"

Luckily for Boss and Carson the entirety of the old river boat was surrounded in a chest high solid metal guard rail that was about a good half inch thick-despite the steel being somewhat rusted it still worked as damn fine cover against small arms fire. Admittedly there was a blackened empty hole here and there from the randomly well placed plasma round but for the most part it was the best place to take cover when fending off an attack.

Heeding Carsons words Boss wasted no time in throwing himself down to the floor, back against the guard rail he set his shotgun aside and simultaneously pulled out his machete and .44 caliber handgun-he was well aware the shotgun would do him no good against a moving boat. "We got company comein up on our left, you know the drill!" Boss roared in Cats direction as he peeked over the rail at the closing boats, the speedy little red crafts closing in quick.

Knowing the barge could never outrun the speedy raiding boats that Boss and his men had come to encounter in their journies it became routine for the group to steer the barge ass close to shore as they safely could without grounding themselves: hopefully cutting off a side to be raided from and allowing for a quick escape to shore should things go horribly wrong. On rare instances, such as this, Cat could even use the ships one form of offense and steer the ship into head on collisions with raiding boats-the smaller variety literally being crushed to splinters against the slow behemoth that was Boss's barge. Most of the time raiders could easily outmaneuver such an attack, but it had worked often enough that Cat continued to try; Boss was pretty sure she just loved the sensation of running over raider boats.

Now with both bandit boats coming straight for them their attackers were forced to choose between wrecking their boats against Boss's hull or breaking course alongside them, possibly turning around afterwords. Hopefully they couldn't ride in the shallow waters that separated the Barge from land Boss thought; for if they couldn't there was no way his group could now be circled.

Letting out what could only be described as a war cry Boss sprang to his full height while still clutching both his machete and gun, the sight of him shooting up past the guardrail no doubt resembling some sort of pirate from a forgotten time. Aiming as best he could he let off three quick shots; the sudden explosion of bullets around him causing him to retreat to cover yet again. He wasn't sure if he'd hit anybody and now he only had three shots left in the chamber.

Damnit.

He could hear AssHead unloading quite the laser payload on their attackers but he had no idea the extent of damage the crazy eyebot had inflicted. Cursing himself he banged the back of his head against the cover he hid behind-if only he had some sort of long range weapon on hand. And then he remembered.

"Choke on this you sonsofbitches!" Boss barked while pulling the pin from one of the grenades he'd pocketed earlier, after letting it cook for a moment he hurled the thing with all the strength and luck he could muster in the direction of the atackers.

@Letter Bee

Napoleon V watched as the crowd howled in jubilation, chanting her name over and over again until their throats were raw.

"Et vous, mes enfants, vous etes la force dans  mes bras, les teneurs de mes reves, les heritiers de Notre combat!" (And you, my children, you are the strength in my arm, the holders of my dreams, the inheritors of our struggle!) The revolutionary general swelled her voice, so it reached even those at the very back of the crowd. 

"Ne faiblissez pas! Ne reculez pas! Ne vous rendez pas! Vive la Revolution! A mort le Roi!" (Do not weaken! Do not retreat! Do not surrender!) 

The crowd went wild, several people breaking into forbidden songs all insulting the King. Napoleon V raised her hands to the crowd, basking in the knowledge that these people were hers. Hers to do with as she pleased. Power. The best drug of them all. 

"Madame?" A familiar voice hissed in her ear. She sighed. "Bon Dieu, Stephane, but you can't let me enjoy myself even for a moment." 

Stephane de Beauharnais, her chief bodyguard and occasional lover, stood beside her with a blank expression on his face. "Desole, Madame, if my primary concern is to protect you." His baby-blue eyes were serious.

Napoleon sighed again. De Beauharnais was a looker, no two ways about it, but he wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. He never understood the necessity for her to be seen to be close to the people. Good thing sex wasn't difficult, or he would have needed someone else to hold his dick for him. 

"What is it, then?" She said, climbing down from the makeshift platform. 

"There is a group if people making their way through the crowd towards us. Professionals. They are getting dangerously close." 

"But they haven't started shooting yet?" Napoleon asked. 

"Well, no, but-" 

"Then get Hagen to deal with them. If you shoot them down and it turns out they were a Brotherhood of Steel delegation coming to offer us support, we would look like right fucking idiots, wouldn't we?" 

de Beauharnais looked confused, as he often did. "They're from the Brotherhood?" He asked. 

"No, Stephane. It was just an example. Get Hagen to talk to them before they get any closer. And have our snipers cover him. I'm going for a drink." The revolutionary leader headed for the "Tuileries", the most loyal revolutionary bar in the city, which was just beside her makeshift stage. 

"Have Hagen join me once he's finished with our guests." She said, ducking through the door. 

Daniel Hagen was just the opposite of Napoleon V's handsome bodyguard. Indeed, his startling ugliness and malformed body,a legacy of an Order flamethrower, had earned him the nickname "The Twisted". Others called him thus because of the depth of his cunning and duplicity. Perhaps the greatest strategist the Revolution possessed, he had served in its ranks for over forty years. He was Napoleon's right hand, and a most impressive hand he was. Crossing the square he elbowed people out of his way until he reached where Par and his men forced their own path through the crowd. 

"Halt!" Hagen snapped, his men deploying in a rough semicircle in front of the strangers. Perhaps ironically, all of Hagen's elite squad-his "Dragons"- were all armed with flamethrowers. A nod from one of them showed Hagen that the snipers watching the square had also trained their weapons on Par and his band.

"All right, you and your little circus have gone far enough!" Hagen went on, putting his fists on his hips. "Just what in the Hell do you want? You Mercs or something? Looking for a payout? Cause you're shit outta luck if you are." 

Sigh...this was not going to be easy. Par recognized in the steely eyes of Hagen an intelligence and cunning to match his own, and a twisted soul capable of acts that Par was too...soft to commit just yet. Ordering his men to halt, the Merchant prepared to measure his words, trying to keep himself cool and calm even as he thought up contingencies for failure.

"My name is Paradise 'Par' Rapids, Merchant. My parents were killed trying to trade with the Order back when the latter was against it." He had glimpsed Napoleon V's handsome Bodyguard, and felt a little bit of rage now. It seemed as though he was going to have to alienate people if he were to try seducing the female general. "I will not lie; I would not be a good son if I were not to avenge them, but I would not be a good trader if I let avenging them get in the way of business."

"So," all of what he said was factually true, "I wanted to see both Order and Revolution in order to make a decision." He took Hagen's measure again, this was a person that will not be charmed easily, so best be honest. "And I must say, for both factions to point guns at me is not impressive." [Cha 9]

"But enough about that, I want to tell you what I have to bargain with. I am skilled at building and repairing engines, guns, and explosives, at jury-rigging machines, and above all at Solar-Electric, Wind, and Biomass Technology." No mention was made of the Guild of Free and Fair Trade, or of Par's own training in Economics and Military Matters. [Int 10]

Par's body language was deliberately open, his hands pulled back and opened wide, showing a full view of his body, allowing him to be observed for any threat he posed...as well as other matters. [Confirmed Bachelor].

@Ordure, @Tuxedo Fox, @Lord Coake, @Ulstermann

@Letter Bee

Hagen raised an eyebrow. "Trader, eh?." He snorted with laughter. "I'm sorry If you don't like people pointing guns at you, but in case you hadn't noticed this city is at war." He told the youngster. "So you want to trade. All right, follow me. We'll see what the boss thinks of you. Alone." He specified, pointing at the rest of Par's men. "They can cool their heels here." 

Hagen led Par into the Tuileries bar, through crowds of drunks and the poor until they came to where the leader of the revolution sat nursing a glass of something strong. 

"So Dan." Napoleon said. "Who's the stray?" 

"Trader. Wants to...trade." Hagen answered. Napoleon V swung round to face Par. "All right, friend." She said, sipping her drink. "What do you have for me?" She didn't invite Par to sit down.

@Tuxedo Fox

SECONDARY QUEST-A Light in the Darkness

The barge moved clumsily towards shore, minimising the area the two little Marauder craft could attack. Boss dropped into cover, as did Carson. Boss fired a couple of shots from his handgun. Carson didn't see if he hit anything; he concentrated on the second boat. The major fired off a tight three-round burst, cursing as the bullets thudded into the red-painted hull of the enemy vessel.

 Return fire whipped across the water, sparking off the side of the barge. AH let out a high-pitched warble that sounded like a battle-cry, opening up with a surprising amount of fire that caught one of the Marauder's crew in the torso, hurling him of his ship and into the water. The first vessel swept past, inundating the barge in small-arms fire. Carson leaned over the rail, firing back. He whooped in glee as he saw his bullets drop another foe out of sight, blood spiralling through the air.

 Boss stood: "Choke on this you sonsofbitches!" He roared, hurling a grenade with all his might. The explosion caught the second boat at the stern as it came in for it's first pass, kicking the rear clear out of the water. Carson pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yes, Boss! That'll teach em to mess with pros!" The Marauder vessel began to sink. Her surviving crew swarmed the decks, firing with whatever weapons they had. The barge swung towards it, bearing down on the smaller craft. 

"Uh, Boss?" Carson shouted. "Your pilot got a death wish?" 

Before the other could respond the barge slammed into the Marauder craft. The enemy ship exploded into shards of wood and metal as Boss' ship pulverised it like it hadn't even been there. Carson didn't even lose his balance. 
The surviving enemies on board the enemy ship were annihilated, wiped from the Wasteland as if they'd never been there.  

There was no time to celebrate. Even as the barge ploughed through the remnants of the Marauders the first ship, which had swung around for another attack, was alongside. Several Marauder scum hosed the deck with fire whilst five of their comrades leapt across onto the barge. 

"Boss!" Carson shouted. "We got boarders!" Kind of pointless to shout that. Boss could hardly miss them. The major groaned as he spotted a Mister Gutsy   amongst the enemy. 

"Kill em all, let God sort 'em out!" The Marauder robot barked, powering across the deck.