Morgan gave Hayes' words a moment's thought, then grabbed another random beer from the cooler and guided Hayes over to an empty table near the wall.
"Yer right about one thing. Not of the one of the Lieutenants, or any of the half-dozen or so idiots calling themselves Captain has the drive needed to actually do the job. They think too small, and half of 'em don't even bother with the Code anymore. The second I retired to be Keeper of the Code, some ambitious Lieutenant or another should've taken charge and called a vote straight off. Instead, as ye pointed out, most of 'em are too scared to make their play, and the ones that have think everyone should just get in line without the vote."
Morgan paused to take a drink of his beer, then grimaced at the taste. He hadn't looked at the label when he grabbed it and now he wished he had. 'Yuma's Best', the label read. A relatively new Crayterian import. If that was Yuma's best, he'd hate to try their worst. Still, no sense letting it go to waste.
"Anyone who was worth a damn died on Leeds, either fightin' in the resistance, or in the dyin' at the end. I could probably pick up the pieces, but I'm honestly not sure I've got it in me anymore. I retired to this place for a reason. Still, maybe tryin' would be better than stayin' here in comfortable boredom, watching me arse slowly get wider."
Morgan took another drink of his beer. It wasn't any better this time around.
"Tell ye what, lass. I've got a few things to check on first, but if ye come back in a few days, I'll have an answer for ye."
![[Image: pyBjInU.png]](https://i.imgur.com/pyBjInU.png)