"Agreed," Markus said, taking his seat in the cockpit and preparing the ship for launch. He set the three SCA beacons active and activated the power systems, before charging the short propulsion lift. Soon the transport thrummed with life, and Markus received clearance from control, happy to see no one expected anything amiss from the station. Jocasta finished inputting a system's analysis before giving the thumbs up the ship was acceptable for travel. 

The transport lifted up steadily, and with an ease of many flight hours, Markus took her out through the hanger shields and into the void. Life support systems activated and rumbled, clean air filtered through the vents. For a moment, Markus had the idea to eject the mutant anyway, but he had given his word it was her decision and let it go. They'd let him out after the job was done. 

"So, what's with your hair?" Markus asked, without so much as glancing at his partner. 

"I'll tell you once we we finish this up," She said. 

"Fair enough." 
[hr] 
[i]2 Hours Later...[/i] 

The back rooms of Adan Gallanis's suit were lavishly furnished, cushioned chairs and pristine tables bedecked with velvet banners. The carpets were clean and soft, and yet the busts and iconography were particularly spartan, bespeaking the long martial past of the moon, Ahura. Markus had not believed the station was this large, but both he, Jocasta, and two guards continued down long halls and banquet rooms into they reached a purpose-made meeting room. 

On the back wall was a huge mural of The Ride of the Valkyries by Johan Gustaf Sandberg, and the wall to its left held two 'windows' that were merely holograms of a peaceful lakeside view, both framed by elaborate purple drapes a medieval king might have. There were two dining tables, but the guards bade Markus and Jocasta sit on the long couch under the mural as they waited. Their weapons had been left behind on the transport, and Gallanis's son's prone form had been taken from them as soon as they had arrived and alerted the baron of their success. 

As for the man himself, it took only a few moments of waiting for Adan Gallanis himself to make his entrance, stepping out of another door, likely to more private chambers. Behind him accompanied a servant with glasses and a bottle of what Markus guessed was some vintage of wine. 

"Ah, to the victors go the spoils!" Gallanis said, gently clapping his hands together, a smile on his face. He wore a comfortable and resplendent indigo coat. He pulled up a chair and sat himself before both Markus and Jocasta as the servant placed the bucket of ice down, removing the wine and pouring a glass with a fine deftness. "Would you care for a drink?" 

Markus opened his mouth to speak, but Jocasta shook her head and pointed at Markus with a thumb. "This one promised the next drinks would be on his tab. Can't let him weasel out of that." She said, but Markus surmised she was simply being careful. That and anything that postponed the payment was an obstacle. Baron Gallanis inclined his head, and merely took his own glass in his hand. 

"Very well. Now, first allow me to congratulate you on your resourcefulness. Not many mercenaries or bounty hunters could have done what you two did. In fact I am so impressed, I wish I could employ you for future jobs. I know I'll be needed good guns for hire." As he spoke, the servant filled his cup and then stepped back without a word. The baron placed it to his lips and sipped, savoring the taste. He gave a satisfied 'ahh' and placed the cup down on the table. "Unfortunately, you two won't be in the market after this job." 

"Even with a sizeable payday, I don't know if I'll hang my sword up just yet." Markus remarked. 

"Your sword, yes! A Secare Sabre, if I am not mistaken? I wonder, are you a veteran of the Caraxes Campaign, or did you kill a man who was and took his sword? Either way, you're a dangerous man. And you, my dear, such intelligence with such beauty, and with a taste of showmanship! Your infiltration of my meeting was well done." He stated with good humor, but within moments, the mirth faded from his eyes. "But... I was not entirely honest with you. Truth be told, I had thought the White Sharks would not be defeated, and that a large group of mercenaries attacking would be seen as a breach of security and faith on Mazda's part, but you two actually succeeded. My gratitude notwithstanding, I do have to confess that the man you captured was not my son. He is the heir to the Lerouxe household that rules over Mazda, and now thanks to you, I have him as a bargaining chip. And alas, while I consolidate my position, I'll need to feed Mazda with the two responsible for the heir's disappearance, which is, unfortunately, the two of you." 

As he spoke the final words, the two guards that had escorted them aimed their plasma rifles at Jocasta and Markus, the lights on their barrels brightening as their safeties were taken off. 

[hr] 

[i]The Gods Eye[/i] held a small, private prison for malcontents and political prisoners, and Markus was unsure which he would consider himself at the moment. The walls were a meter thick of pherocrete, each cell being large enough to house a maximum of two individuals. Across from their cell, through the bars that were rigged to shock anyone who touched them, there was a cell with a bed and a toilet, and even a sink. Markus was unsure if they had been placed across from it to taunt them, as both Markus and Jocasta were not only in a space that was every inch bare, hard, and cold, but their arms were shackled above their heads with manacles of titanium-C, the same material the entire space station was made of. 

As they had been taken away, Gallanis had told them they would be retrieved by Mazda officials tomorrow, in approximately 1800 hours. Their food, water, and any other basic needs could be seen to by the jailers that arrived to collect them. As it was, the baron took no chances with them. 

Markus's dark, unkempt mane of hair cascaded down before his face and shoulders. He looked very much the part of a dangerous, albeit somewhat comely, marauder that had been caught by the rightful authorities.