Tim frowns as Tess sets the flagons of ale and a bottle of whiskey between the two junkers. "Aye, Arbiter. Me 'twas wha' sent 'im heedin' 'at way when th' call came in what yer man were under attack."
Tim pours the amber liquid into the pair of crystal glasses and sets the bottle down with a clunk.
"lass?" He leans his head back and asks Tess, "Would ye see to some fish'n chips fer us, an' praps a Gaian Antelope steak?"
Tess nods, pokes her pen into her datapad with stacatto stabs, winks at the two, and sashays off.
"An' Aye, he didnae fare well at'all." Finnegan shakes his head. "He were th' last man flyin' amid th' twisted hulks o' several Congress vessels. An' while me boyo were able ter do some real harm, them poirate rotters had better hardware an' apparently some skill wif it. Murph's Recycler didnae survive th' engagement."
He knocks back the entirety of his whiskey and slaps the glass upside down on the table. A tribute to the lost Junkers crewmen. "Murph's a Molly, he be made o' hard stuff an' sure. He's refittin' a new shep now at Arecaibo, an' we await 'im afore we hit space ourselves. So he's of nae worry."
Finn reaches out and places a hand on Trenton's shoulder. "Wha' concerns me, Govna' is your losses. Murph's data recorder shows empty an' damaged pods floatin' aboot the area afore 'e ejected 'is own core an' pod." "Nor've Oi 'eard a word from Commander Treadwell. As Invergordon were th' nearest Congress facility for th' wounded, an' our med unit is chock-full o' recov'rin Junkers, 'is absence is evident."
With a wince he asks a question he already knows the answer to. "Hae ye some news on 'is status then, me friend?"
*James looks down at his glass and places it in front of him as he speaks..*
James.. Yea we received word that John stayed on board refusing to abandon ship.. The crew and all on board would not leave his side and all were lost. Strangely enough his son Jason Trendwell who has worked with us as a fighter escort and scrapper has requested to captain the new salvager JunkTown. John was a great captain and a good friend.. he will be missed... I am thankful to hear Murph is doing alright.
*Over the intercom a female's voice is heard.. Welcome home Claymore O'Gordon you are clear to docking bay one*
James.. Ahh so the old bucket o bolts made it here afterall I see! Well this is good news as the last time we saw that ship it was being chased by the Legion!
Here let us toast to you and to your position as Adjudicator.. and to the safe arrival of that old beast! We also drink to the ones that were lost to protect our way of life..
Tess finishes punching in the orders of transfer for loss wages to be paid to the families of the deceased Junker crewmen.
John Treadwell, gone. She remembers his dignified gentlemanly manner and genuine smiles.
With her chin held steady and a welling in her eyes, she taps the SEND key, and tucks her datapad under her arm.
Noting the silence of the two Congressmen as they drink glumly, she makes her way past the bar to the offices.
Johhny the barkeep nods a reassuring smile at her as he pours a fistful of pints for some visiting Molly pilots, who laugh raucusly and share jokes about the BAF.
Dekker, who lost a lifelong friend onboard the .:j:.JunkTown, and another onboard the .:j:.Crow's Nest, kneads his knuckles, just itching for someone to give him an excuse to bruise them.
Even Pip, firecracker Elsie MacLaugh, had lost some of her usual flounce. "S' a stinkin' spineless thing." She opines to Johnny as she leans on the bar, tray dangling from a fingertip. "Come out o' nowhere's, kill a bunch o' Junkers, then scrap thier ships an' hide under new names..." she trails off. "Even makin' some snipe about th' apparent size o' thier tiny tadgers willnae cheer me up." She half-smirks.
The careful work of neutrality normally protects the Congress, and indeed all Junkers.
Six ships, and over a hundred crew lost in one engagement is not common.
Anger and sorrow boil in the Drunken Junker tonight.
Even the arrival of the Claymore and her crew is subdued as they stream into the Pub, Robert Murphy among them.
He stalks to the Congress Lounge, his face a grim visage of vengeance.
Robert Murphy, Molly patriot, currently under the employ of the Junker's Congress as Tim Finnegan's pilot and XO of Finnegan's Wake, takes a seat grimly with the two Congressmen.
"Top o' th' mornin', Gents." He says with a nod to his employer and friend. "Cap'm. Dropkick mkIII prepped, ready, an' in th' Wake's bay. Oi stand at ready. Aye an' bloody willin' as well." he states through clenched teeth. The barest hint of vacuum burn shows as ruddiness of his cheeks.
Turning to Deputy Arbiter trenton some of his cockyness drops off. "Arbiter Trenton, I'm on th' sorry side fer bein' unable ter avenge yer lad Treadwell. Me lovely were holed, an' Oi could no get a shot on them fekkers wha' took 'im doon. He'll be rightly missed." Tight lipped, he offers his hand to James.
"I did see 'is progeny, Jason off't in 'Rico, crewin' up a newly christ'ned ship. 'E's a fine lad, an' if looks could kill them Hessian dolts'd be deed already. I look forward to flyin' wif 'im."
*James stands and turns with an outreach hand he shakes Murphy's hand*
James..Good to see you and thank you for trying to help that day.. it was truly regrettable and unforgivable.
*James motions to Murphy to have a seat as he begins to drink... he takes a drink then pauses, looks up and says.. *
James.. Well not that it will bring our friends back but after our heavy losses I contracted the Hackers. After a very short time the assassins were found and eliminated. Nothing can replace our friends and coworkers but it is good to know those fools ended up sucking space themselves.
*James pulls up his glass and takes another drink*
The loud shout was heard bouncing through the walls of the Drunken Junker, if not across the whole station. It was rare for Johnny to yell like that. Well, except when he was drunk. He just loved shouting when he was drunk.
'Hey-ho!'- said a familiar voice playfully across the comn. A tiny hologram now stood in front of Johnny, just across the counter.
'Andrew, you son of a prick!'
'Oi, oi, no need to resort to name calling.'
There stood Andrew Beast, in the fake, holographic flesh. Despite clean shaven and having grown thrice the length of hair, it was still clearly him. His attire was spared of any Junker insignias but other than that unremarkable.
'Do you have any idea how hard I've been trying to trace you? You vanished into thin air!'
'Well, I'm alive ain't I!?'- he said with a chuckle.-'You know full well I can do the disappearing act at will.'
Johnny stared at the hologram for a few seconds, unable to find the emotion or words with which to retaliate.
'Well, it's been good seeing you Johnny. I'll send you something nice from where I'm at. I'll be transferring the call into the lounge now.'
-------------------------------
Into the Congress Lounge and straight into the middle of the table where Finnegan and Trenton where sitting, there popped the hologram of Andrew Beast.
'Hello gents!'- He said, with a rascally smile. With it still firmly on, he took in a large breath.-'First of all, I'm sorry for having disappeared like I did, especially at such trying times. Nonetheless, I'm sure Finn will do a damn fine job. I have left Kelly and Alice tending to the Seamhas. I guess it worked as a hiring notice as well.'- he laughed briefly.-'Make sure they keep at it, eh Finn? I want the Seamhas space-worthy once I get home. Secondly, I mailed all the important stuff I had off-papers to you. Yes, more paperwork. Feels great to be Adjudicator, doesn't it ?'- he laughed once again
A soft woman's voice starts to be heard from outside the camera range.
'Andrew, hun, we best get going.'
Andrew's light-hearted disposition turned dead-serious for just a second, as he acknowledged the mysterious woman with a nod. He quickly put it back on, as if it were a mask of sorts and turned back to the camera.
'Well gents, I'd best be going now. Do not try to trace me. I wouldn't have been able to stay incognito for almost a decade if I weren't good at it. Again, I'm sorry for vanishing the way I did. Let's just say that I have some issues to take care in which I couldn't involve neither the Congress nor the people of Inverness.
...Take care.'
With this the hologram fizzled out of existence and Andrew Beast was gone once again.
*James begins laughing as the hologram fades away* James.. AJ that ole bugger hes just as crazy as ever.. tis good to see him doing alright. Musta found him a nice piece of tail too. She must be one sexy siren to lure him away so quickly!
*James motions to Tess to come over* James.. Hey sweetheart can we you please fetch us another round I want to have one more drink with these fine men. While I still have so much to do I should have time for one more round!
*James pushes a small button on a wrist communication device.. in a flash the lounge door opens and Marcus enters*
Marcus..Yessir!?
James.. Marcus tell the men that their leave is ending shortly and they will need to put down their whores and ale. Get the ship ready as we depart from here soon..
"Sonofamotherless..." Finnegan stares tachyon daggers at the space where the hologram had been. "Tha' bloody-minded Scot!" He snaps his head around to look with quizzicaly raised brow at James Trenton. "Ye see 'at? throws his duties at me like a wet bar towel, ALL th' troubles o' runnin' this joint, on bleedin' TOP o' his ruttin' Adjudicator work...Th' bugger coulda at LEAST given me 'is share o' th' Pub's profits!"
Finn shakes his head, laughter and mirth now. "Crafty ol' AJ! Jes like 'im ta stick me wif th' work while 'is accounts grow. Well, good on' im!" He pounds a fist into his chair's arm with a guffaw.
Pip slides up and starts doling out another trayfull of ale flagons in hammered hull-panel mugs. "Ere we is, Gov'nas. Jus tapped th' new keg o' Porter. Johnny sends th' gloam to ye'z."
Tess stands behind her, frowning over some figures on her datapad.
Finn grabs a mug with a harried frown.
Murph grabs his and clunks it with Finn's offering a thunk to Trenton. "Cheers gents." he says, the dice in his pocket rattle.
Staring at Tess, "Th' lass willnae give an ol' boy a minute's respite, me boyos." Finn sighs.
Tess flashes her datapad at him, tapping its glass surface with her pen. "Seems I've a meeting with some high mucky-muck o' th' Hellfire Legion impendin' 'pon me, my friends."
He quaffs his porter and grins an approving smirk and nod, and turns to the deputy directer of the entire Congress. "Arbiter, aside from payin' th' tabs o' yer crew --don't even try arguin'. S' already done-- an' sharin' p'rpaps a dirty joke or three, anything official I can do for ya, afore this impendin' teeth-gnasher I've on me plate?"
Finnegan's palm, placed flatly upon the tabletop, triggers a mechanism that projects his personal datapad into the surface glass from below.
It glows now beneath his hand, yellow datalinks flowing across a blue Gordon tartan.
Tapping his thumb magnifies a comm link, which he spins towards the arbiter with a flick of his wrist.
"Aye, boss." Finn nods. "As regards this set o' messages 'ere, Oi intend ter meet wif this Voss character, ta foind out why th' ruddy 'ell 'e parked his VenGyr an' a small flotilla o' Legion vessels ootside Rochester t'other day."
His brow furrows as he remembers the threat inherent to thier arrival, and carefully masked in thier words. "Them o'erblown Legionnaires come a' huffin' an' puffin' o'er ter OUR bleedin' station, demandin' answers boot me Claymore, yon flagship o' the Clan Gordon."
A protective and serious look flashes across his face, seconds before a mirthful grin.
"As if information were summin' th' Congress gives away fer nuffin', or worse, under duress. Har!" he laughs. "S' nae wonder they left wif nary a promise tha' we contact 'em lot. Which as ye can see, Oi done."
"Oi thought I'd open yon door to talks wif 'em. P'raps e'en some friendly hummin' an' hawin' we can hae them lads reconsider thier alliance wif them sheep-buggerin' Xenos, is my thinkin'."
Lifting his flagon he takes another long pull of the fantastic Porter. "Leastways, Oi can try, aye?" He inclines his head to his superior. "Hae ye any advice or directive fer me, regardin' this upcomin' Meetin'?"