Gun Bill whistled. The boy was playing for the long haul. 'You are sharp. Food and water are as good as any bait to get people to work hard. Manned by children, huh? The Orphan League outpost I guess.'
The little pipsqueaks were a hardy bunch, even if some of them barely had teeth in their mouth by the time the Alliance gave them a mission or purpose. 'It is creepy but damn effective.'
They adapted to survive in the harsh environment of the Scrapyard, they needed to be that way.
"Hm. Permission granted. Bill, except for Vanky and other medical staff, you are allowed to make a strike team of four guards to help Ellianor and Kissenn. I grant you eight hours to assemble your strike team. Be ready for large-scale deployment. Take as many provisions as you see needed to get the mission done."
