Deke caught the offered drink deftly, spitting the smoke onto the floor and taking a swig. It was piss warm, buy nuka was still a damn fine drink. He turned back to his partner with a bit of a frown.

"Scrap it for parts? Shit, I was thinkin' take it with us an' sell it. Maybe that sheriff down in Atlanta." Deke really didn't know if Xander was up to that job, but the kid was good to robots. Plus these days he had to think in terms of big profit. Times were toughz even for the wasteland, and a man needed all the caps he could get. "Y'know, when I look at my 12 gauge an' your gauss rifle, feel a lil' fuckin' inadequate."