Hellfire Legion [HF] Secure Comms

[TFinnegan]

**Bridge of the Wake**
**departing Invergordon Station airspace**
**Inverness system**

*striding across the bridge dais, in full dress Gordon kilts, hands behind back*
Top o' th' morning to ye, Executive Commander Voss o' th' Hellfire Legion.
Oi be Congressman Timothy Finnegan, Coileach an Taobh Tuath, an' Adjudicator-Inverness.

*stops and smiles into the screen*
But lets us lads save some breath, aye?
In the finest tradition o' me ancestral Scotsmen, lets do forego th' superfluous titles.
Mister Voss, if I may, *raises eyebrow* most call me Finn, please feel free t' do so yerself.

Now, I'm given ter understand -after a wee chat wif onna yon fine officers- tha' ye be lookin' ter speak at me.
*adjusts the shotgun baldric across his chest, and sweeps his hand at the view of planet Cannish on the monitors behind him*
I'd like ta welcome ye ta come visit me in Inverness, at yon shinin' jewel, Invergordon Station, ef ye've th' inclination.
Y'see I'm a face-to-face chap, nae onna them what prefers ta hum n' haw o'er th' comms.
Oi'll arrange a roight private spot for us at The Drunken Junker Pub 'ere, where'pon ye n' me can set a spell an' converse o'er a pint an' a wheskey.

*taps his nose with a finger, and hooks his thumb into his kiltband*
Ye understand o' course, 'at me invitation is exclusive to yer roight hon'rable self, n' p'raps a small guard ef ye feel ye need it.
Nae th' whole bloody Legion.
*smiles broadly*
Oi can promise I've nary up me sleeve, an' ye willnae be needin' muscle.
Besides, armadas tend ter make me lads a mite jumpy, an' ef ye think a Jumpy Junker's unpredictable, try a jumpy Gordon Junker.
Or rather, do try n' avoid it.

*strides to the command chair and dumps himself into it*
Oi've some pressin' business elswhere, which'll hae me rippin' black in th' Wake, so'z if ye prefer ye can always find me oot an' aboot.
But Oi'd prefer ta offer ye the best o' civility fer this set-doon.
*taps forehead in a salute*
'S on ye now, me good man, an' Oi await yer word.

Wake out.
*screen snow*

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[Durandal]

While I'd normally do the whole formality crap, I'm technically on leave for the week, Finn. That'd mean no Legion related duties.

Buuut I suppose I can't pass up a good drink, and Meallan kind of forced the whole thing on me anywho. I'll be there with my second, Richard Wainwright. Can't pass up a good drink, and besides, I'm sure he could use the time off too. Tomorrow evening, if you're free.

See you there.

[TFinnegan]

**Bridge of the Wake**
**Rochester dockyards, New York system**

Aye, tha'll do.

Take yer time, lad....T'were ye lookin' fer me, Oi were given ter understand. Nae t'other way roond. -Oi've plenty ter keep me busy.
I'll see ye there when ye get there.
An' no a moment afore.

*grins toothily*
An' when ye do arrive, mind th' pipers, aye.
They jus' be welcomin' ye'z, nae tryin' ter drive ye away.

Wake oot.
*screen snow*

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