The transport disc made its way from the berthed Ascent to a maintenance dock on the outside of the New Freedom Opera House platform. Without the invisible molecular link field protecting the seemingly open vehicle, the three churchmen on board would have floated off in the well-documented dance of space death; but, luckily for the passengers, the force field provided a barrier between either side so that only matter containing particles whose witten frequency matched the field's configuration could pass; visible light could pass through, but the breathable air and the hospitable climate inside could not.

The dock jutted out from a permanent scaffold. The Churchmen's disc positioned itself directly underneath an access point from where it rose into the platform's environment. When the disc levelled with the floor of the platform, Eiko, who had been silent since they left the bridge, took his friends by their shoulders and gently herded them off the vehicle. "Remember, catch and release", with a pat on the back he directed his reminder mostly to Honi who had a record of being overly forceful in interrogations. "And always remember: It has been the highlight of my life to serve with you both."

With that, the Dean took the disc down. As it disappeared Sam and Honi were left standing on the dock with an assortment of containers and equipment used by the platform's workers and permanent residents. Rather than hang around and attract attention, the Churchmen headed straight for the maintenance hatch which would take them down to the network of corridors where they would find their way to theatre's third level box seats. At the hatch, Sam threw a universal_key op code to the virtual controller, and the panels of the wide doorway slid apart to allow the Churchmen to enter.

A muffled impression of the orchestra's opening overture in full swing indicated that the opera had already started. Guided by a floor plan via their ocular overlay, the pair quickly made their way up to the hallway behind the box seats, now in a public part of the platforms, the surroundings had turned from industrial to very high end. With carpet, and ornate features and fittings of red and gold in the revival of an ancient period of Earth's history.

They walked casually past more than a few guards who were, either platform personnel or the personal escorts of the many wealthy guests in attendance.

One pair of guards shone out from the others like finished diamonds in a box of stones; the two Knights of the Star Templar stood either side of the curtains to the centre partition, these Star Templars were the protectors of the Church and particularly, the Cardinals, Archbishops, Patriarchs and the Pope. They wore white body armour that was more ornamental than the black field outfit of the death squad, and also unlike the squad members, the knights were noble born, qualified by birth requiring an exceedingly rare mix of pII and iI genetic markers. The genetic enhancements gave them physical superiority and brains to succeed in a training regime that lasted more than a decade, and that cost the lives of those not able to meet the Templar standards. The other distinctive feature of the Star Templars were that, like the Hierarchy that they protected, they wore black collars and were, by age-old tradition, only ever men.

There was a healthy rivalry between the Death Squad and the Star Templars, the former seeing the white warriors as battle-green lackeys and the later regarding the black executioners as mere foot soldiers.

Given the mission's unusual catch-only objective, Sam and Honi had decided not to enable their death masks. Even so, they were recognised and regarded nervously by most that they passed down the hall, except the Templar who, taller even than Honi, looked down their noses at their fellow Churchmen as they passed. The Templars had their holy sun swords unsheathed and held the special two-handed longswords out before them point down to the floor.

Pompous arses, thought Sam and, for a split second, entertained the notion of killing the knights and so giving Eiko a better chance at surviving his self-assigned mission; but just for a split second.

As they approached the box marked by their ocular overlays as their target's seat. Sam recognised the guards as Merlo Mercs, just about the best Agency mercs that money could buy. The rough, battle hardened looking woman on the left, placed her hand on a pistol in a mechanical, second nature movement at the approach of the Churchmen. But Sam couldn't believe their luck; in his folly, their target had hired from a mercenary organisation that had a standing non-opposition treaty with the Death Squad. The Merc acknowledged Sam and took her hand from her weapon, "Good evening Churchmen," She said and motioned the other guard to relax. They pulled aside the curtain-door for the Sam and Honi to enter.

"Thanks" Sam nodded to the woman, and added with a wink, "Things could get messy, you might want to call it an early night."

As the curtains parted, a wave of music hit the two Churchmen. Inside the box, the large figure of Pongo was seated amid a small group of his significant others. They were all wearing garish and over the top dress costumes in all the wrong colours.

Sam walked forward and tapped the company director on the shoulder. The businessman looked around and gave a squeal, shrinking back from the Churchman as he recognised her uniform. "Please don't kill me!" he grovelled pathetically. The others in the box jumped up from their seats and shrieked, rushing out of the partition.

"You will not die today -- if you come quietly -- we have some questions we need to ask." Explained Sam almost having to shout over the music.

"Ok, move now!" She ordered, and the man eagerly complied. The Churchmen escorted their prisoner out of the small dark area. Back in the corridor, when the curtains sealed, the lively orchestral music was once again muffled.

As they passed the Knights, Pongo asked, "Do you mind if I just have a quick word with the Cardinal before we leave?"

"No." Sam pushed him forward, and he lost balance, falling in a heap. Honi effortlessly pulled up the large man by his frilly tie, and the three walked back to the maintenance dock where the disc was waiting. On board was the Ascent's Commander, the auger Harris, her green bright green hair contrasted with the red gas clouds in the far distance. As soon as the Churchmen and their captives had walked onto the transport it floated off back towards the harbour and the Ascent.

"It was a druid." Confessed Pongo, he was bright red and visibly shaking. "A very important one too; very well connected. I spent a lot of pax on finding out who she is and you can have all of the information. Just deliver me to my ship and I'll send you the pax without delay. It's all yours, free of charge."

"Has anyone else seen the information?"

"No, It's secret."

"You mean, you haven't been able to find a buyer yet." added Honi.

Pongo shrank back from the tall Churchman, and Sam noted that he seemed to me more afraid of Honi than he was of her, his mistake, she thought and explained, "Well, my friend. This is not the kind of negotiation that you're used to. You see, by the time we're through with you, we'll have the name of this nature cultist, and everything else you know about the event at Skye."

She turned to Harris, "Anything from Eiko?"

"No, he's waiting for us to return to the ship before he starts his work." She added, he told me that he wants us all to watch a ... sermon."

"That Bastard, why would he do that to us?" asked Sam of the officer who had been serving with the squad for longer than she had. Harris had the full confidence of the team.

"I asked the same thing," replied Harris, "He said -- and I quote -- because you all need to wake the fuck up.

"There's more."

Sam and Honi listened intently. "Go on," they said as one.

"Any of the crew, ordained or not, who would have a problem with more than a little heat from the Church have left the ship. Those who remain are ours."

Somehow, at that moment Sam knew there was a change coming. She was surprised that she hadn't see it sooner: realised that, not only was she caught up in a change in the wind, but she was standing atop the prow of the ship as they sailed directly into one mother fucker of a tempest.