Nelson's

[Darkard]

McMillan had been engrossed in his idle chit chat with Dave for what seemed like hours, but if there was one thing that being a director had taught him, it was that you always listen out for weapons being drawn. The tension that has just arisen in the bar was blaintently apparent, and the shufflings and clunkings of pistols was unmistakeable.
It was compleatly acceptable for Junkers to deal with trouble makers in his base, and even encouraged it, McMillan just did'nt want it here. He liked the decor plasma free and would prefer the varnish on his wood to remain polished rather than scortched or a-blaze.
After a quick assessment of the situation he made a move.

"Just a sec' Dave" he said, rising from his seat and making a small gesture to suggest that the other Junkers need to put all thier hand cannons down.
There was a hidden message in the gesture and facial expression that suggested non-compliance would lead to undesireable results that may or may not include geting your face planted on the table your sat at.
McMillan stood facing the two strangers for a second before turning his head back to look at Dave.

"Ya' know what mate. Forget it. A' cant be bothered with it." he said, as he flopped back into his chair. "What were we talking about again?"

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