After Moloch explained the situation to Krasus, he immediately agreed to accompany them to Rofoscue’s mansion.

“The cleanup teams can handle things from here. The Drydellians wouldn’t dare to interfere with us again, for they are on very thin ice.” He offered as he walked up the gondola stairs behind Moloch.

They settled into their seats and braced themselves as the crafted lifted up above the habitation hive the running lights lighting up boarded buildings that lined the grimy street ahead of them. Supervisor Rofoscue sat hunched on the seat glaring daggers at anyone who looked in his direction.

The gondola ride back towards the city center seemed much quicker, then when they had journeyed out to the hybrid district from the central level lift.

Salazaar guided them expertly through above the Drydellian streets as he sat expectantly on the edge of his seat.

Moloch wished that he could experience that kind of longing for another one day. It just made him all the more confident that he was doing the right thing, going out of his way for Salazaar and his wife, just like Salazaar lost a hand and foot going out of his way for him.

One of the Legionnaires had tied a length of rope to Rofoscue’s collar and he sat like a leashed dog, as they held the other end tightly to prevent him from making any kind of mischief during their trip.

Rofoscue cursed them and complained the whole time, becoming bolder and bolder the closer they drew towards his mansion. He was definitely going to try something Moloch knew and he also knew the only way they could remove Salazaar’s wife without several cycles of litigation was for Rofoscue to release her willingly.

When Moloch saw what he was looking for, he directed them to set down the Gondola on the street.

Then Moloch disembarked and went back inside the shop, and after a few minutes he emerged carrying a small steel bucket and a long pair of tongs.

He came up the gondola steps wearing a wolfish grin.

“I’ve found some of your old pals, Rofoscue! Are you ready to take a little trip?” Moloch announced and held up a wriggling leech with his tongs, as he lifted his eyebrows up and down.

Rofoscues eyes went wide. “Oh no not again! I don’t want to go back there!” He wailed as he tried to squirm away from the leech. The Legionnaires held him tightly by the shoulders.

“A little help fellas, I want to make sure he has several dozen of these beauties on him by the time we reach his mansion.” Moloch directed as he leaned over Rofosuce brandishing the tongs.

The rest of the Legionnaires pulled back Rofoscues’ robe and Moloch began to drop the hungry leeches on his chest. They latched into his smooth soft skin and their round wet bodies began to undulate and quiver as they sucked his blood.

Rofoscues body relaxed and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“I hope I didn’t overdue it. He already seems well under the influence.” Moloch pondered as he dropped the tongs into the bucket.

“So you think he will become soft hearted again from the leeches bite and release Myleia voluntarily?” Salazaar asked hopefully, looking down at the murmuring Supervisor.

“It’s worth a try. We don’t have the power to free a citizen from their contractual obligations even if Rofoscue is a lawbreaker.” Krasus said sourly. “Now if I were a Praetor, with that kind of power they wouldn’t dare refuse me.”

“If only we were all Praetors, Krasus.” Moloch agreed, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Just you wait and see Moloch. You know as well as I do they always promote the next Praetor of a Legion from its pool of active duty Centurions. Please don’t hold it against me if I’m selected as next in line to replace Shalos, despite you.”

Moloch tilted his helmeted head, to face Krasus. He watched him for a moment and then leaned back against the railing of the gondola’s open window.

“I know you feel like we’re in competition against each other for Praetorship, but the only competition in my mind is out there.” He waved with his gloved hand. “Not with you. The Emperor always selects the next Praetor, as long as I do my duty, everything will happen as it should.”

Krasus flashed him a wry smile, as he pulled out his intelor, and started scrolling through some notifications on his screen.

“You don’t fool me Moloch, I know you want the Praetorship as much as I do. As much as the other fifty eight Centurions in our legion do. It's the Emperor’s blessing, everyone wants that.”

Moloch held up a hand to stop him. “You’ve made your point Krasus. I wish you the best of luck, and let the best Centurion win the Emperor’s favor. Just a word of advice though, don’t let Praetor Shalos hear you say that, or he might entomb you in mind frost for a week.”

“What? And take his best Centurion out of the field? He’d be a fool to do that.”

Moloch grinned under his helmet in spite of himself, you could take the noble out of the settled estate, but a life spent in the country aristocracy had bestowed an unshakeable sense of self confidence into Krasus and four cycles of service in the legion so far had done nothing to diminish it.

“I can hear you smiling at me Moloch. I’ll not go easy on you.”

“And I’ll not go easy on you! If you two don’t stop your wearisome bantering, and just be present in the moment, you’d enjoy life ever so much more!” Rofoscue bleated, wearing a silly lopsided grin as he fluttered his fingers lazily across his field of vision.

Moloch and Krasus looked at each other and chuckled. “I think the leeches can come off now.” Moloch chuckled and he stood up and took a prongzapper out of the bucket and began removing the leeches from Rofoscue. The Supervisor giggled and tittered as each one came off. “Oh, be gentle with me Centurion!” He demurred tracing his skin with his fingertips as his eyes rolled wildly around in their sockets.. Moloch’s stomach twinged when he saw the crooked angles of Rofoscue’s bandaged legs.

“I hope the Emperor sees how I suffer in the line of duty. If this doesn't put me next in line for Praetorship, what will?” He said as he got the last leech off and set the bucket down.

Krasus stood up to look at Rofoscue, putting a hand on Moloch’s shoulder. “I think he likes you Moloch.” he whispered.

Moloch raised his fist to smack him, but Krasus had already stepped back laughing. Salazaar and the other Centurions were also chuckling.

Moloch slowly put his fist down. “How much longer do we have until we reach Rofoscue’s place Salazaar?”