[i]Jackson approached from the courtyard, his Generals garb, usually pristine and beatific, was burned torn, and cut. His arms, visible through the holes, were covered in bruises, and his face had a ash mark slashing across it. He leaned on his signature Hickory cane, looking at the downed robot. He caught the last few snippets of the conversation as he approached, and saw the figure wink out. He looks at Wolfe and Clarkson.[/i] "[b]That man seemed an insufferable prick. Now, I was told you sell armor, or will you be too busy going after him for a purchase to be made?[/b]"