“Hey you wanna finish up the whole sob story shit so I can clean the corpse?” [i]A voice said, a mechanized and rather wild-sounding voice.[/i] [i]The man standing behind him stood in a full suit of X-01 MKVI Advanced Tesla Power Armor. His M2A1 sat atop his right shoulder, the skull of an alpha deathclaw atop his left. A large knife was situated in a leg holster on the inside of his left leg, and two large revolvers sat at his hips. Two belts of .50BMG ammo crossed his chest, and on his back, beneath his Old World Flag cloak, an M240B, an M1918 BAR, and a machete. On the rear of his waist, a sawback Bowie, and an M1911 in a shoulder holster. The helmet he wore was still spattered with blood, and the insignia of the Cobalt Phoenix graced his chest-plate. He had garnered some new trophies in his time, a ragged NCR flag that he was using as bandana, covering the lower half of his helmet. Another flag, a Civil War Confederate battle flag was wrapped around his upper left bicep. In his hand, he held an old and rather rusty shovel.[/i]