.:j:. JUNKER CONGRESS MESSAGE DUMP

[TFinnegan]

*Bridge of the Wake*
*Vieques Docking Facility, Puerto Rico system*
*Transmission is wavy and riddled with audio snow*

'Lo Congressmen.
Me ol' gal's seen better days an' sure.
She's nae been turnin o'er fer nigh on a week an' change. Me lad Sinclair's got 'is heed clean inta th' works fer just as long, with nuffin' ta show fer it.
*grins ruefully*
From th' stream o' cusses pourin' like wheskey from a tap oota th' lad's mouf, I'm feared t'will be a bit more time 'fore we breach vaccuum.
*shrugs*
Any o' ye lot wha' gots a way ter put yer 'ands on a Pilgrim master core drive would be most welcome sodders indeed. Fact 'bout now I'd likely nuke th' ol' gal 'n buy a new one afore I put more trouble inta this 'un. Already lost a rating an' a green engineer to a plasma leak. Twere ugly, an I nae care ta bury junkers so easily, specially ones in me employ.

Aye, an' I've got th' message bout them Drifters on me desk.
*rubs chin, screwing up a smirk*
S' a ruttin load o' conflictin' thoughts wormin' thier way frough me heed bout this wee peanut...
'Spose if I chew on it enough...might taste better.
Still, tis nae more bitter than th' takin' 'o me accounts by tha' rat Claymore.

'T any rate, I speak o'ermuch, Oi do.
*winks*
Baffin closed. No skin offa my nose. Aint seen Malta skies in wha' seems eons.
May be I might run that blockade though, gonna hafter make a bloody fortune ta pay fer this dock bill...
*rubs temples*
...An' Oi dinnae like ter contemplate th' tavern tab.
Aint seen numbers like 'at since Astromath class.....

*guffaws*
Wake oot!

*Crackle, Pop*

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