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[center][sup][@Apollosarcher][@JessieTargaryen][@Blizz][/sup][/center][hr][hr]

Sam fixed Finn with a glare that would [I]break[/I] most people. “Don’t apologize to [I]me[/I],” He snarled. “Apologize to the families of the men and women your selfish action [i]killed[/I], apologize to Frank Turbot for having to watch his sister get eaten alive by a fucking [I]Deathclaw![/I]” When Finn tried to put a placating hand on his shoulder, Sam slapped it away.

He let Finn speak his piece, whatever his other failings were, Sam knew Finn wasn’t one to blow smoke. At the mention of ‘Enclave’, coupled with his own realization that a chunk of the forces Finn’d arrived with were also Enclave, his own pulse spiked and he nearly drew anyways. His men were tired, low on ammo and out-gunned…but he nearly committed them to combat with this new force anyways; his mood as soured even further when Finn called out the Enclave Captain and it was [I]her[/I]. 

He kept himself in check, instead fixing Finn with another withering glare. [colour=54C571][b]”I’ll say this once Phineas. If [I]any[/I] of your little tin cans or your new fascist ‘friends’ act out against the folks here, I will shoot them myself, clear?”[/b][/colour] He let out a long, and slightly aggravated sigh, swaying slightly as he did. Ghouls could go longer without rest that normal humans, but the only things keeping him on his feet at this point were adrenalin, spite and a few hits of ultra jet sometime yesterday. He was about to continue his venting against Finn, when a rapidly approaching commotion distracted him.

Two raiders were rushing towards them, though their attitude seemed much more fearful than hostile. Sam’s fatigue fogged brain was still trying to sort out what was happening, when it all came to a moot point. The strange robot/cyborg/whatever who’d been chasing the raiders caught up with them, and made rather short work of the pair in quick succession. He grunted an acknowledgement to Finn, but kept his eyes on the ‘girl’ as she requested new orders. 

[colour=54C571][b]”Well done,”[/b][/colour] He said, ‘her’ actions had saved him expending any more ammo on those two. [colour=54C571][b]”I’m still sorting shit out here, and I think these tin cans can handle the mop up, so take five.”[/b][/colour] 

[color=ed1c24]"Order not understood. Requesting clarification.”[/color] The blank stare that accompanied elicited another sigh. When she’d arrived with the caravan, she’d latched onto him for some reason, but only seemed to respond to formal pre-War style directions. He shook his head and let out a small ‘huff’ before trying again. [colour=54C571][b]”The reinforcements will handle further location security; stand easy until further orders.”[/b][/colour]

A half-forgotten short range radio on Sam’s vest crackled to life. [colour=54C571][b][i]Goddamn civvies![/I][/b][/colour] He brought it to his lips. [colour=54C571][b]”Hold your position for now. We’ve got support sweeping the town for raiders. Will ring town bell when it’s safe, for now keep this channel clear. Marshal Smith out.”[/b][/colour] Stuffing the radio into a pocket, he returned his attention to his one-time protege. [colour=54C571][b]”So, super mutant army? Just what the fuck is going on Bob?”[/b][/colour]