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Lachlan sat in his usual chair in the back corner lounge of the Queen's Comfort restaurant. Swirling a glass of his favor Gallic red in his right hand, he sighed deeply. His shoulders sat lower and more heavily than they usually did, his air of confidence somehow softened. Or perhaps more accurately beaten out of him.

He thought about his brother. Gods knew where that man was! Probably somewhere out in the Freeports. Maybe hawking gold, maybe training the new recruits on the Drake's Fortune.

The Balmoral’s Lounge felt cramped, more crowded even today to Lachlan's feeling. Despite the room being completely empty. For the first time in a long time, he just wanted to get this over with.

Tommy came to Waterloo with anticipation of something interesting. Boss very rarely summoned Irregulars in person, let alone Inner Circle-only, so there could be something big behind that invitation. Maybe the first proper operation of Drake's Fortune?

Epsetti didn't care too much though. He was in a good spirits after finishing deliveries of Light Arms for Wilson's contract and giving one Lane Hacker lass a good whooping in the process of hauling. Tommy noted to himself that he should check on Tereon, whether her brother took action and in general how was she doing.

Speakeasy was parked at docking bay, a little worse for wear then during previous visit to Waterloo, but docking crew recognized the ship nonetheless. Tommy looked like white crow among other pilots and workers there, not only with his hair, but also augments. Despite being a pretty common tech, not many people used augmentations, at least those, which enchanced a common healthy human. Prosthetics are a totally different story though.

Tommy did not waste any time. He pointed straight into the direction of Queen's Comfort after the formalities have been finished and before long has arrived at set destination - the very same lounge where he first met MacRory brothers and the other Irregulars in person. He gently knocked on the door to the lounge.

"Don't worry, captain! I'll look after la pequeña," Nadia Santos called from the top of the loading bay on the Cadillac Ranch.

"I appreciate it, Nadia," Mel said, a contented smile on her face. Having an additional set of hands to help around the Ranch, as well as an extra pair of eyes to watch Ida, was a huge weight of her Mel's shoulders.

"Ich weiß nicht what 'la pequeña' means, but I don't like bein' talked down to," Ida pouted.

Nadia and Mel just looked at each other, and then burst out laughing simultaneously.

"What? It's not funny! Ich meine es!" Ida said emphatically.

"I know, I know you're serious," Mel said trying to catch her breath while wiping tears out of her eyes. "It's just so funny hearing German, Spanish, and my Houston twang all jumbled up like that in one sentence. You sure are one culturally confused kid!"

"I'm not confused, I know exactly who I am," Ida said defiantly.

"Alright, you win kid," Mel said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "I'll see y'all in a couple hours."

Mel waved to both of them as she made her way into the depths of Waterloo Station.


Picking her way through the station, Mel found The Queen's Comfort much more quickly this time, making sure to point out familiar landmarks to herself on her way towards the restaurant. She made it there in a quarter of the time it took her a month ago.

She casually showed her Irregulars shipping credentials to the host at the door, and immediately made her way back to Lachlan's lounge.

Feeling a bit more confident than usual, she pushed open the door to the longue with a casual shove and greeted the men inside.

"Heya boys! How's it goin'?"

"Gentlemen, and lady of course!" Lachlan did a little fancy wave with his free hand. There was enough rapport built between himself and Mel at this point that he trusted her to take it in good fun. "Welcome! Please, please have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. I apologize that I only have wine and a few other drinks as refreshments this time. I've been... stretched thin lately."

Lachlan sat down heavily in his own chair, and stared pensively at his glass of wine for a moment. After a pause, he grasped the stem of the glass firmly, and tossed back the entire glass, swallowing his wine in one gulp.

He sighed.

"There's...well there's no reason to beat around the bush. We all know each other at this point, and I know I called you all here suddenly. So I will get right to it: effectively immediately I am stepping down as the coordinator for the Irregulars."

Tommy was taken aback so much, that he froze in place for a second with a glass of wine in his hand upon hearing this words. The intention of Lachlan to retire from Coordinator position to focus on the ground network of Irregulars was no secret, but Tommy did not expect for it to happen that fast. He came to his senses, put the glass back to the table and asked Lachlan: “What about FInn? Will he stay around? And who will replace you on this position?”

"Wha....wait...yer what now?" Mel stuttered, feeling herself collapse into the plush chair in the warmly lit lounge.

"You're kidding right? This is one'a yer crafty, sarcastic, Bretonian jokes right?"

Mel had thought she'd be ready for anything. Turns out, she could still be very much surprised.

"I wish that it were simply a New Londoner jest, but unfortunately I am being dead serious, Mel," Lachlan said, shaking his head stoically.

He paused only long enough to pour himself another glass of the Gallic red wine.

"Tommy, to answer your first question, Finn is...doing Finn things. For all I know he's still out wandering the Freeports. If I am being completely honest with you, it was never his bright idea to start the Irregulars. I may or may not have dragged him into it." Lauchlan's eyes widened as he said this, and he looked directly up at Tommy: "Also that information does NOT leave this conversation!"

Lachlan took a sip of his wine, set the glass down on the longue table, and folded his hands together.

"I'll answer your last question momentarily, but first I suppose I owe you all a bit of an explanation. As most of you are aware, I've made no secret about the fact that I never intended to remain as the Irregulars' primary coordinator. I have contracts and various responsibilities all over New London that can occupy my time without me ever having to exit the atmosphere. But now my hand has been forced, and I have to move up the timeline of when I step down...drastically.

"Our main warehouse in the Hackney district caught fire about two weeks ago. I didn't want to trouble you all with the information at the time. We were just out of the holiday season, and everyone already had a lot on their plates. That was perhaps shortsighted on my part, because the fire was worse than I initially suspected. Our Irregulars and volunteers planetside were able to evacuate and salvage about 60% of our inventory, but that is still a 40% loss. Even worse than that, it was apparently a chemical fire that not even the New London rain could put out. So now I have the bobbies and boys in blue breathing down my neck investigating for possible causes and contraband.

"So I can no longer afford to divide my time. Maintaining the Cape, contracts, day to day communication with the shipping captains and training affiliates... all of those responsibilities will have to fall to someone else. I will still maintain my position as head of the Irregulars, but the responsibilities will have to be shared now more than ever. I will need someone to take over as coordinator, and potentially someone to take over as head of operations..." Lachlan finally paused for effect.

"I need one of you to be able to pick up the reins."

Mel looked around the table at the three men seated around her, and began to feel a bit of panic rising in her throat. Vaako looked cool as a cucumber, but she could tell he was clearly analyzing the situation and all the various ways that it could go sideways...or potentially benefit them all. Tommy's face was completely inscrutable.

She swallowed the phlegm building in her mouth, and realized she hadn't even had time to pour herself a drink yet. Oh well... little late for that now.

"You want....one of us to...?" Mel tried and failed to get the surprise out of her voice.

Suddenly Mel's mind was able to latch itself onto a core point that Lachlan had brought up. "Wait...what product was lost?" she asked.

Lachlan sighed deeply.

"Well...that is possibly the worst part," Lachlan said, "I wasn't going to bring that up as the first point of conversation, because a leadership change needs to happen and needs to happen now. But because you ask, I will let you know, because it is indeed relevant. We lost our entire store of cardamine."

Lachlan waited to see the reaction of his captains, but only saw puzzled looks.

"Tommy, do you remember what I told you about two months ago after you dropped off a cardamine shipment on New London?" Lachlan asked.