While Moloch and Krasus had been talking with Septimus the survivors dragged out the unconscious Rofoscue, and clapped an incapacitation collar on him. After the two Centurions had emerged from the hole, and made it back up to street level, they saw him passed out and laid against a grimy wall, his wet robe wrapped around himself.

Moloch was sure if he woke up he wouldn’t try to run away, but it seemed like poetic justice to fetter him in the same way as his employees.

Salazaar and the other Legionnaires sat around him, just to make sure he didn’t try anything.

Potter, despite losing part of his leg, was seated apart from the others and was occupied with cleaning the standard, and removing any blood and grime that had stained it. Moloch could see that he was taking the loss of Nassim hard. Moloch had had countless interactions with the standard spirit over the cycles and he was fond of him. But for Potter, he and Nassim had been like best friends. Moloch had even seen him spending his leisure time at the Standard shrine, laughing, singing and talking with Nassim.

“Are you doing okay?” Moloch asked Potter as he walked over to him.

“I’m still here, Centurion, but I wonder where he is right now.” Potter said with a faraway look in his misty eyes.

“He’s probably just resting Potter. He’s just taking a spirit nap, I’m sure he’ll come back just like a cat that went for a wander.”

“But, without his tether, how does he find his way back home? Jalan said -” Potter started, and started to choke up. Then he fell silent and went back to polishing the metal pole of the standard.

“Paragon Jalan said that other spirits survived.” Moloch said and put a hand on Potter's shoulder.

“Speaking of Jalan, congratulations on being the first to be selected by him as his junior. There will be many jealous acolytes and neophytes back at the Temples and Legion Ziggurat now that he is your principal.”

“He has blessed me with the ultimate gift.” Potter said. “To be selected to be trained by one of the great Awakened, is such a high honor, I don’t have the words to express it.”

“As one chapter ends, another begins.” Moloch said.

“I see you, quoting the spectacles.” Potter replied with a thin smile. “Trying to sound all wise.”

“You know me better than that.” Moloch said with a smile.

He turned to go. “You served with bravery and honor today brother, and so did he.” Moloch said, pointing up to indicate Nassim. “We’ll be leaving as soon as the cleanup team arrives.”

“Thank you, Centurion. He always loved compliments.” Potter said, as he turned back to the Legion Standard.

Moloch then walked over to where Krasus had found Trench passed out in the dissimulation tent with a dead Screwtongue, and a half melted Jakob White sprawled in the street.

They carried the unconscious Legionnaire out of the tent and set him with the others.

“I'm sure Trench has a good story about what happened there.” Krasus said. “When he wakes up, I can’t wait to hear it.”

Moloch made his rounds amongst the surviving legionnaires, making sure they had tended their wounds and would be ready to move out when the cleanup team arrived. He finished and squatted down beside Salazaar who was watching Rofoscue with the intensity of a cat waiting outside a mousehole.

“How are you holding up Constable?”

“Been better, Centurion, but all in all it's good to be alive.”

Moloch pulled out his injectrix and fiddled with several settings by adjusting the front dials until he was satisfied with the dose he was crafting.

“Let's bring old Rofoscue around. He owes you some answers.”

Salazaar’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean Centurion?”

Moloch’s face wore a serious expression.

“We need to find out what size hook he is going to give you for your replacement hand.”

Salazaar looked confused.

“My hand sir?” He looked down at the stump on his wrist that was matted with colag paste and crudely wrapped in a bandage.

Moloch just chuckled and injected Rofoscue with the dose. Several long moments later, the Supervisor’s eyelids began to flutter.

Moloch slapped him hard several times on his cheek.

“Wakey Wakey Rofoscue.”

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The Supervisor moaned as his head lolled around from side to side.

“Am I dead?” He asked.

“No, but by all rights you should be.” Salazaar saved your life again. Moloch replied grimly.

Rofoscue cracked an eyelid and peered out to survey the surrounding area.

“What do you plan to do with me?” He asked carefully, not bothering to thank Salazaar.

“That is really going to depend on your next few choices.”

Rofoscue gasped and exhaled out a breath, letting his trembling hands play over his ruined legs which were still resting in nauseatingly crooked angles.

“I don’t know anything. Leave me alone.” He whined letting a pitiful tone slip into his voice.

“Well we both know that is untrue. So, we will take you back to the Legion Ziggurat and get you all patched up.

Moloch slapped his bandaged broken legs a couple of times for emphasis.

Rofoscue howled as the pain lanced through his body.

“Then once you’re good and healthy, you will be assigned to a Legion Interrogator. Don’t worry, Legion Interrogators are true professionals. They won’t rush things with you, they will take their time, extracting everything you know, and sorting the true from untrue, the pure from impure. Then there won’t be any more secrets or games.”

“You've made your point Centurion.” Rofoscue whimpered. “What do you want?”

“I don’t think I have!” Moloch yelled, grabbing what was probably Rofoscue’s knees, and wrenching them around.

He screamed and passed out from the pain.

Moloch started slapping his face again, until he came back around weeping and begging.

“Please Centurion, I am too gentle to suffer such brutality. Just tell me what you want, I will be your willing servant.”

He bowed his head, still sobbing. “Just tell me what you want.” He mumbled over and over again. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

For the briefest instant Moloch pitied him, but then he remembered all the death and destruction that Rofoscue had wrought to cover for the Drydellians' crimes. It was time for the scales to be balanced.

The surviving Legionnaires now had gathered around and were watching with keen interest. Moloch searched their faces and found not even the slightest bit of sympathy for Rofoscue there.

“Well start with something simple.”

“What is it?”

“Where is Salazaar’s wife? Where is her cryo chamber?”

“See here is the thing.” Rofoscue wheezed. “She’s not in cryo.”

“What? Where is she?!” Salazaar shouted, trying to get up but when he couldn’t he began a mad scrambling crawl towards Rofoscue.

“Restrain him, Constable or he’ll never find her.” Rofoscue said smugly, a bit of his old pomposity returning to his voice.

Moloch held up a hand to stop Salazaar.

Rofoscue swallowed, and let his wet lips slap together a couple of times.

“I always favored her, but in the past, but she continuously rejected me. Could you imagine? A simple employee rejecting my favor. I patiently endured her teasing and rejection and games, that was until he came along. See, until that point I never had the leverage I needed to truly make her serve me.”

He smiled smugly, putting cruel emphasis on the final words.

“Here is the irony, all the while Salazaar was working to save her, she was working to save him. If you take my meaning.” Rofoscue coughed a long hacking wet cough but finally gave up when he was unable to produce any expectorant. He laid there against the wall with a trembling smile playing across his lips.

“How absolutely monstrous.” Moloch said and he sank back down on his haunches.

Salazaar was shaking with rage, were he able, Moloch was sure that he would have throttled Rofoscue to death with his own two hands.

“Monstrous? Me? Really?” Rofoscue said incredulously arching a matted eyebrow. “ She has lived a comfortable privileged life in my mansion with the rest of my other… favored employees. If I was unable to attend to her needs that day, I made sure to keep a Rocco who could furnish me with a feast for the senses and satisfy her well enough.

See, the secret to artful management all comes down to personal motivation. As soon as I figured out she would do anything to keep me from poppingSalazaar’s nape, the rest just came down to me having enough self control to resist something I have longed to do.

“Send for her to come here. At once.” Moloch demanded.

“Alas, Centurion, my intelor pad is broken. Besides, none of my mansion’s special employees are permitted to leave the premises for any reason. My loyal constables are instructed to shoot on sight.” Rofoscue gurgled out a long phlemy laugh.

Moloch lifted his own intelor to make a call.

“Don’t bother Centurion. Here on Drydellia we have strict property laws. None of the others would dare intrude on my mansion for any reason.”

Moloch put down his intelor. But just then he looked up as he heard the whine of a gondola's grav impellor, as it turned the corner and began to set down in the alley.

Moloch saw that the cleanup team had finally arrived on several gondolas. They wore legion insignia and their uniforms were orange and black.

“I’m not done with you.” He said to Rofoscue.

Rofosue waved limply at him. “Take your time Centurion. I’m not going anywhere.” He said impertinently.

“Don’t you strangle him while I’m gone.” Moloch said to Salazaar.

“I’ll do my best, Centurion.” Salazaar said but his eyes smoldered with rage.

Rofosuce smiled smugly at Salazaar as Moloch turned to go.

Moloch walked over and after the cleanup crew squad leaders finished talking with him and Krasus they marched around the building and started documenting and melting everything inside to ash.

Moloch returned and helped Salazaar up. Then he pointed at several nearby Legionnaires who had been listening to Rofoscue and now they were eyeing him with looks of disgust and hatred on their faces.

“Pick him up and come with us, we have one more stop to make before we leave this place. Don’t be gentle with him.”

While Moloch requisitioned one of the cleanup crews gondolas, the legionnaires made sure to drag Rofoscue's legs over every bump and stair as they made their way into the gondola as the supervisor screamed in pain.