[b][color=1a7b30]John Fulman- Arctic Haven commander
The Ultra-Luxe, New Vegas[/color][/b]

John had been sitting at the table quietly smoking his cigar, subtly transmitting the audio of the meeting and listening quietly as he had no place in conversations, but his ears perked up at the guy, who was obviously Legion, commenting with "If you've all had your wine and whiskey, then maybe we might discuss the fact that the Treaty of Goodsprings has reached its end. Mars alone knows exactly what that means, but I can take a fair guess. The treaty must either be renewed, or the Southwest will likely be awash with blood soon enough. And I can assure you, that whatever horrors the first war brought, the second will unleash even more." John gave faint wry smile, the scar running diagonal across his lips giving an ugly parting before he quickly brought his face back to a serious stance before giving his sales pitch. He hadn't expected anyone else to have seen the NCR patch under his overcoat, so he played himself up as an outsider. He gave a cough as he cleared his throat before he spoke up. "Excuse me, Mr....Lucas? Correct me if I am mistaken, but as I am told, the cause of both major wars for the Hoover Dam were started by your Legion, is that not so? If it is this way as was relayed to me, it seems the only ones who need have concern are the participants facing you at this table."

He stood up, but didn't raise his voice nor leave from his spot at the table and simply continued. "This is like the days before The Bomb, both sides watching, waiting for the other to make the first move. Oh, I am certain some factions here will abide a new treaty, but I foresee a new political model rising with many factions waging proxy wars. Never daring to outright get their hands bloodied, but a fistful of caps from either side and suddenly there's two independent armies fighting a war they don't even know the objective of, they're just getting paid to fight a war. I've seen the looks some of you gave me, looking down on a merc as little more than bandits and pirates, but yet you're not moral enough to refuse to hire us. I've seen those looks from Magadan to Anchorage but they all never turned us down when they wanted blood shed. We're in an age of deterrence by the size of a nation's army and strength, but that won't stop a group of independent tribals conveniently decide to war on NCR or a mysterious mercenary crew comes out of the blue and Legion parties are found strung up on interstate signs. You 'nations' say you want peace, but you hire men like me to spill the blood cowardice and fear halt you from doing." He bent down and picked up his cigar from the tray and took a puff before continuing. "So get ready for the dawn of a new age, my fellow Wastelanders. A red age, not red for communism or red for lovely sunsets, but red....for blood. Men like me fighting your wars will become the future. I am not being a cynic, but I know how people who hold themselves to be nations and states behave and none of you are any different. When this conference is over, feel free to come find me and we can discuss contract fees." He took one last inhale before curtly nodding his head in a half-bow to the others before sitting back down. John sat, looking grim and serious, but internally, he was half pleased with the results of his speech, casting all sides as deceitful and war ready and thought to himself, [i]'Well, the seeds of mistrust are being planted. Let's see if this field will yield crop'[/i].