Rochester Inn

[Darkard]

Steven McMillan stepped into to doorway of the Rochester Inn, clad in a stained and well worn yellow jumpsuit. Steaks of grease across his forehead where the sweat of his days work had been wiped away by a well used glove. The clean metal briefcase in his hand was in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.
Stepping over the threshold he took a second to take in his surroundings and stepped up to the bar, setting the case down on it as he approached.

Winston turned and eye-balled the case curently scuffing his bar surface, "Can I get you anything Steve?"

"Wait a minute mate" replied McMillan

McMillan quickly removed the yellow jumpsuit, revealing a a smart grey suit underneath. Using the sleave of the grimy jumpsuit he wiped away the marks on his face using the side of the metal case as a mirror, before running his fingers through his hair.
He tossed the jumpsuit over the bar to Winston

"Yer' can get that washed" He said to the discusted barkeep, who prompty dropped the jumpsuit to the floor and proceded to wipe his hands on his apron.

Adjusting his collar and and snatching up the case, McMillan turned and headed to the back of the room where the imposing figure of the Chief Arbiter sat. Pushing the technician to one side he placed the metal case down spun it around to that the handle was facing him.

"This" He said, jabbing a finger into the case "Is what wer' getting art'ta Trafalgar these days"

McMillan parked himself down on the seat next to Bishop and popped the clasps open with a sharp click, opened the case and lifted a small cylinder of metal out of its foam mold. Setting it down on the table infront of the Arbiter, the Nuclear Trefoil clearly visible on one side.

"Top quality. The wrecks 'art there are brimming wi' the stuff. Its all from LD-14, still locked away in't engine cores wer' bringing in." McMillan paused for dramatic effect and allowed himself a quick look around to see if he had gathered an audiance.
"A' put some a' rookies on selling it back t' Bretonians, but 'ave still got loads a' the stuff in Trafalgars holdin' bays. Just need somone t' shift it."

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