The sun was shining. Very hard. It scorched the earth and sucked all of it's resources, and despite the already harsh conditions, it decided not to pay attention to any life forms trying to survive. It was at least 42 Celsius and the sun was just about to reach it's peak. It was ought to be another hard day for the dwellers of the outback. 

"This is Colonel Solomon Troy of the Republic of the Flaming Sun..."- The mysterious sound suddenly came in from all directions, and then it calmed down slowly. It was like a thunder in the middle of the silence created by the wastes. It was only the occasional wind picking up and carrying sand into one's eyes, making them regret the day they set foot outside any camp or caravan. And the earth that cracked under the feet like paper. But apart from all that, it was relatively silent. Then this sound came in. "...based in the ruins of Astrakane. If you can hear this..." - William stopped and decided to investigate the source of the sound. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to the right. Nothing. "...we are interested in enlisting the services of individuals with..." - Most interesting. He tried to frown.  Then he remembered he still can't frown. His face is nothing more than wielded metal plates. It has been far too long since anything made him try to frown. He gently peeked to the left. Nothing. "...combat experience. Prices are negotiable. There will be a Republican checkpoint..." - Hmmm. Where is this sound coming from? It wasn't left or right, and it was most definetly not coming from the front. Bugger. That leaves one more option. He slowly rotated backwards, head first, then his upper body followed. Nothing. A most precarious situation. "... north of the city, head there if you are interested..."- He took his hat off and scratched his head. The sound of metal scraping metal quickly reminded him not to. He is a terrible detective, he thought to himself. Sherlock would most likely solve this at an instant. If he lived in a wasteland that is. But where on Earth is this irritating voice coming from? "...and you will be issued orders and the terms of your contract." - Then silence. Now this was a mystery to be solved. But nothing is too hard for Sir Williams the best dete- "Pre recorded message ends. Repeating in 30 seconds" 

Blast it. He couldn't help but shade his face with his hand. He beleived this motion was called "facepalm" amongst humans. A fitting name indeed. He used his radio so long ago, he forgot it even exists. No wonder he couldn't find the source of the sound. It seems he became too much of a human in some areas. He accessed the radio frequency and listened to it again. Now without searching for the origin. Mercenaries hmm? Might not be the job for a gentleman like himself, but who doesn't need Sir Williams, the best dete- A bullet suddenly put a hole in his hat. 
- [color=brown] Piss! This is the second time today I can't finish my dialogue. That runs in my head. It seems today is not the day of my life. [/color]
- Don't worry about that! - a man in ragged clothes, with a pistol in his hand exclaimed. - If you don't hand over all you have, this might be your last day!
- [color=brown] Oh lord! That would be terrible! Why do you seek to shorten me of my properties? I am merely a detective looking for work! [/color]
- Nothing personal detective, but you gotta do with what you got. - He shrugged his shoulders and lowered his weapon - You must understand that your...
The man stood with a bleeding bullet hole in his chest. His shirt was a crimson mess, and his eyes stared like milk glass.The stock of the walking stick smoked and William politely bowed, raising his windy hat.
- [color=brown] I do good sir. And that is why I cannot let you get access to my valuables. You already put a hole in me hat. Corridors and openings. You never lower your gun. But I'll be on my way now. Have a good day sir! [/color]
He swung his stick around and started to continue walking towards the checkpoint, whistling an old song, and leaving the man behind for the vultures.