The Ships Inn ... Wall Street Station, Honshu

[Squad]

Preston gave his new acquaintances a curtly nod as he shook their hands.

"Gentlemen, a good day to you," the same narrow-eyed smile greeting Joe, Jay, and Jonathon. "All this talk of ferociousness, and here I assumed all was well with the world."

Preston had a seat in a large, rather un-opulent leather chair. The table in front shared ash trays as willingly as it did coasters, the glass top doing all it could to keep its woodworked façade from being ruined by either.

"Well, I believe a drink will be coming shortly." He opened his palms. "Please, don't let me interrupt whatever I have seemingly interrupted. I mainly came by to share a bit of good news."

He shifted slightly to the left in his seat and put his hands together in his lap.

"We've managed to gather all of the company's legal materials electronically on board the Judgment, though I do admit the glory of fine paper complaints, depositions, and motions are lost on many people. Too much money, I assume. Regardless, the Judgment will soon be properly connected to the Division's assets in Kusari, Rheinland, New London, and New York so that the legal personnel in each House should have easy access to any materials or records. Hopefully, we'll be able to cut some costs and personnel for the time being."

The waitress set a tumbler on the table in front of him.

"I haven't had the time to review the most recent files myself, but let me assure you, my role here is to represent my client to the best of my ability. In this case, my one and only client is the Division – not its officers, not its directors, and not its employees. The legal process is more powerful than any other, which gives us the glorious opportunity to hunt down debtors, thieves, tortfeasors, and all others who might harm the Division to the edges of the sector. There homes, their gold, their credits, all of their assets opened to us in a way no other 'medium' can replicate."

His narrow-eyed grin returned.

"Since I represent the Division, her wrath extends internally as far as it does externally. Should her members choose to abuse her, they will be hunted down, their suits re-woven into napkins for starving Hispanics, their assistants finally demoted to the whorehouses they're certainly already fit to run, their homes, ships, boats, cars, all sold for scrap to reimburse the Division for any harm that may come to her."

A sip.

"So. What did I interrupt?"

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