After a long and arduous night of celebrating yet another successful run at one of Malta's raunchiest bars, the crew of the Finnegan's Wake crawled out into the Maltese sunrise, shielding their eyes from its intense orange glow.
While the sheer volume of intoxicants consumed would have been more than enough to kill even most Mollies, the Junker crew of the Finnegan's Wake were probably only due for a minor hangover. Of course, the night had presented itself with many opportunities at personal enrichment, and Bobby Murphy did not waste the opportunities that presented themselves (sometimes at the expense of his crewmates). He patted his pocket, expecting to feel the wad of cash that he had accumulated over the past several hours.
When it felt emptier than it should, he stuck his hand inside, where there were several solid rectangular objects and a larger, soft object (needless to say, Bobby often found it useful to have very large pockets). He grabbed a hold of the larger object and withdrew it. He unfolded the object, which turned out to be a rare Gaian 16-leaf clover. On it was written the following:
To the Captain and Crew of the Finnegan's Wake:
For the heroic act of bringing thousands of civilians away from a life of corporate slavery to a world where the word "poverty" is unknown, you are hereby awarded the Immigration Medal. In your pocket are enough ribbons for every member of the crew, including Captain Finnegan and yourself.
Of course, I took the liberty of making room for the awards. Drinks aren't free, you know. Check your other pocket to find out that your coins have been exchanged for medals.
But I digress. Be sure to deliver this message, the medals, and the ribbons to Captain Finnegan. He will almost certainly be glad to receive them.
P.S. My contacts in the LPI thank you for your courtesy in working with them to achieve a better Sirius. They also pass along their gratitude for the new leather seats.
