[@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..."