Finnegan and the Deputy Arbiter open the smoked glass doors from the Congress Lounge into the pub, Murphy in tow.
Finn eyes the armored stranger as he shakes hands with Declan and heads back to his table.
His brow furrows in thought and remembrance.
Blinking, synapses fire and he has it. He snaps his head around to his fellow Congressmen. "Lads, looks like I've yet another impromptu meetin', aye." he intones.
"Let's see what' kind o' trouble we can muck'up wif them Kusars, Gents." "Murph, lad. I want th' Dropkick parked at yanagi until further notice." he orders. "An' when ye done'at, catch 'yon shuttle back, an' quick. Oi needs th' Wake prepped fer extended tour."
Murphy barks an "Aye, Cap'm." and turns to shake hands with James Trenton "Arbiter, 'till better days."
"James, my friend," says Finn. "me 'n mine's be atcher service, at yer beck an' call. Dinnae hesitate ter call on me, nae to advise me as I arm wrestle wif 'yon Legion."
He, also, offers his hand to the Deputy Arbiter. "Yer welcome to hang aboot, avail yerself o' our fine pantriesd an' hostel. But dinnae let me keep ye'z."