[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - Salem town square

“It’s pretty clear hot stuff has served before," the stranger stated as he turned to Frieda “Along with the impressive figure Just look at how she stands, holds that plasma pistol, a plasma pistol....”

Frieda looked between the taller man with the moustache, back to Rook.  Steve, she thought it was?  She narrowed her brow but did not immediately reply.

“What outfit where you with? I don’t see any stupid tattoo so it’s not the gunners Brotherhood perhaps? The operators? Or maybe perhaps the Talon company?” 

Frieda blinked.  As if this wasteland tribal deserved to be endowed with the knowledge he was in the presence of an officer of the true American government, especially when he had the nerve to suggest she was, perhaps, [i]Brotherhood[/i].

[i]I made my choices, but my roots remain.  Still, I have to try and dislodge a lot of that...thinking.[/i]  Frieda went with the safe response.  "I failed to catch how my pedigree was any of your business.  Ever consider I may in fact be, naturally gifted?"  She nodded at his lit cigarette, trying not to show her desperate craving too obviously.  "Spare a smoke?"