-The Drunken Junker Pub-

[TFinnegan]

"Sonofamotherless..." Finnegan stares tachyon daggers at the space where the hologram had been.
"Tha' bloody-minded Scot!" He snaps his head around to look with quizzicaly raised brow at James Trenton.
"Ye see 'at? throws his duties at me like a wet bar towel, ALL th' troubles o' runnin' this joint, on bleedin' TOP o' his ruttin' Adjudicator work...Th' bugger coulda at LEAST given me 'is share o' th' Pub's profits!"
Finn shakes his head, laughter and mirth now.
"Crafty ol' AJ! Jes like 'im ta stick me wif th' work while 'is accounts grow. Well, good on' im!" He pounds a fist into his chair's arm with a guffaw.

Pip slides up and starts doling out another trayfull of ale flagons in hammered hull-panel mugs.
"Ere we is, Gov'nas. Jus tapped th' new keg o' Porter. Johnny sends th' gloam to ye'z."
Tess stands behind her, frowning over some figures on her datapad.
Finn grabs a mug with a harried frown.
Murph grabs his and clunks it with Finn's offering a thunk to Trenton.
"Cheers gents." he says, the dice in his pocket rattle.

Staring at Tess, "Th' lass willnae give an ol' boy a minute's respite, me boyos." Finn sighs.
Tess flashes her datapad at him, tapping its glass surface with her pen.
"Seems I've a meeting with some high mucky-muck o' th' Hellfire Legion impendin' 'pon me, my friends."
He quaffs his porter and grins an approving smirk and nod, and turns to the deputy directer of the entire Congress.
"Arbiter, aside from payin' th' tabs o' yer crew --don't even try arguin'. S' already done-- an' sharin' p'rpaps a dirty joke or three, anything official I can do for ya, afore this impendin' teeth-gnasher I've on me plate?"

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