We arrived outside Chorus' club as the nightly entertainment was winding down. As we wandered in there were the odd pockets of individuals, still dancing to the fading remnants of music, and one or two with a large collection of glasses situated either at the bar or in pairs in a corner offside. The main band had retired an hour ago, and Chorus herself wasn't propped up on the bar, legs hung up on her rack, as she usually was during the main height of the night.

'What are we here for?' I asked Markro as we made our way over to the bar. I watched him make a quick scan around the room, and I knew that he didn't want to say anything lest a Red Rose gang-member happened to be lurking in the shadows, by the merest of coincidences or otherwise. He gazed out at the floor, checking the clothes in the jabbing lasers, and spotted nothing to be feared.

'We're here for the man who lives above the club,' Markro said, 'you now this. I told you on the way here.'

'You told me jack shit. On the way here you told me about how you once went out with a barmaid that worked here once before she went off with one of the band members from an old group that used to play here and got herself overdosed and cremated six weeks afterwards. You wouldn't stop going on about how she was your only really true love.'

'Will you keep it down?' Markro hissed as we reached the bar, 'some of us are sensitive.'

I replied by giving him a contemptuous snort that quickly dissolved into a cough. I banged my chest a few times and tried to regain my composure, which is difficult when I smell bullshit.

The guy behind the bar I didn't recognise from my previous visit, but apparently recognised Markro. He was busy wiping out glasses and restocking the shelves and cabinets when we approached, but upon seeing my companion halted his activities to turn his full attention to us. His black hair with blue streaks bounced as he turned towards us in a way that only the vitalised hair of a young man possibly can.

'What can I do for you this time, Markro?' the young man asked. Markro looked around and leaned in close, beckoning the young man to do the same.

'I need to see Spyder. It's urgent,' Markro hissed. The young man blinked, as if taking a moment to register what he was being asked. I myself was puzzled, it must be said. When I had gone up to Chorus' room the last time I was there, I hadn't heard of anyone called Spyder. It wasn't that I thought Markro might be making things up, but I knew then that it was a job of following Markro's lead, and not the other way around. It always was, of course, but now to a greater extent.

'I'll call Chorus down.' The young man went over to a Halo-Core and waved. He put his face close and coughed. 'Sorry to bother you, but Markro's here, along with another guy. He needs your permission to see him.'

'Send him up,' said Chorus from the other end of the transmission, 'he knows where to go. I'm with him now.'

The young man moved his face away and waved the Halo-Core off. He turned to face us again, picking up the cloth and glass he was cleaning as we had approached once again. 'Go straight up.'

'Thank you,' Markro said, bowing ever so slightly. The young man did likewise, his eyes drifting away instantly. We were no more a concern, just another passing traveller on his weary way.

'Come on,' Markro said, tapping me on the shoulder, 'let's go.'

We climbed the stairs, the metal gratings vibrating as the music combined with our footsteps to give it a pleasant ringing noise that serenaded our movements. We ducked behind the large pink neon sign that overlooked the dance-floor and Markro punched a code into the Halo-Core. The door opened and Markro gave a small sigh. 'I was almost scared she'd changed the pass code,' he said, trying to chuckle a little. I could hear the anxiety still in the timbre of his voice however, and see the almost microscopic shaking of his hand. Nerves were kicking in, even now.

We walked down the corridor and Markro knocked on the door of the room I had been into last time, Chorus' quarters.

'Come on in,' she said from inside, and Markro pushed the door open.

Chorus was relaxing in a reclining chair with a glass of her pink liqueur, legs propped up next to her, hair fluctuating between orange and yellow. Sat on the sofa next to her was a man in his fifties, glasses shimmering and with little strands of white hair around the temples.

'Morning, Chorus. I hope business is well,' Markro said.

'As well as can be expected,' Chorus replied, a faint smile dancing on her lips. 'You're here for Spyder, I hear.'

'We certainly are,' Markro said, motioning for me to shut the door, which I did so obediently.

'Ah, Xayne. How nice to see you again. Once again, apologies for the incident last time,' Chorus said. I waved it off with a smile. In the pit of my stomach I felt a shudder. The last incident had been our first run-in with the Red Rose gang, and it seemed strangely like destiny that we should be here asking for their location when we first found them after I left here previously. Celestria always has a way of coming full circle.

'The reason we've come is related to that, Spyder,' Markro said. 'It's Red Rose.'

'Yes,' Spyder said, snuggling into his seat with a playful glee, 'they've been up to a little mischief since we found out about them, haven't they? Blew up a couple of buildings in Region 32, last I heard. Trying to go big but they'll never get there; they don't have the communication skills. Bunch of yobs at best.'

'A bunch of yobs that have grabbed one of our associates and are holding her for ransom.'

Spyder sat up in his seat, eyes widening. The smile that had danced on his lips before had now dropped off them onto the floor, waiting to be kicked under the chair. 'In exchange for the box?'

'According to the boss,' Markro replied.

Spyder sank back into his chair, hand going to his face to bridge his eyes. His glasses darkened and I could see his eyes flicking back and forth, as if looking through something in his mind. If there had been a screen in front of him, I would have said that he was reading through menus and opening videos, closing them down, going to other information pools and trying to correlate everything together.

'Grasslea not letting them have it?' Chorus asked. Her hair had changed to the bubblegum pink of her drink.

Markro shook his head solemnly. 'Told us to go and get her back, no questions asked. We just don't know where their main base of operations is. I thought the collector here might know something.'

We looked over at Spyder who was still sat there thinking and correlating. The whole room was quieter than a room after a shootout, when the last body has hit the floor. As the canister drops and rings off the ground, there is no clearer a sound, and it only reinforces the idea that there is nobody left alive but you, a single sound somehow louder than the quiet. Waiting for Spyder to get out of his mind with the information was like waiting for that canister to be ejected from the gun and ring out on the floor. It made me shiver though the room was warm.

'I think I know where they'll be,' he said. 'Pass me your Halo-Core.'

Markro took the device out and passed it over to Spyder, who proceeded to tap screens and projections, flicking across numbers and punching in letters.

'How much do I owe you?' Markro asked.

'Ten,' Spyder said without missing a beat. His eyes never left the projection before him.

Markro dug into his coat and fished out the appropriate finances, handing them to Chorus, who had her hand outstretched. 'It would actually cost more, but he owes me ten anyway so it'll do for that.'

'Aha!' Spyder suddenly exclaimed, swishing the air and spinning a projection around. He placed the Halo-Core on the small table we stood around. 'Here it is.'

A map showing large tower blocks and apartment complexes from the top down stared back at us.

'Where's this?' Markro asked.

'Region 18. It's the Black Milestone Area. Over here is Grange Acre, down there is Slatezone. Where they should be, if I'm not mistaken, is here.'

Spyder pointed to a cluster of small buildings about two streets down from a shopping complex.

'Save it to the Core,' Markro said. 'We need to get going.'

'Sure you don't want a drink first?' Chorus asked. Markro waved her question away and she nodded. She could see as well as I that Markro's face had turned darker, his eyebrows burrowing into the skin, his muscles ever so slightly tighter. I had been with him enough to know that he did this every time he thought there was a chance of not coming back alive. The amount of times I had seen him leave the club with that body language must have rubbed off on me, for I found myself with my hand balled into a fist.

'Don't kill yourself, Markro,' Spyder said cheerily. 'Or you, sir.'

'Xayne,' I said, following Markro to the door. We left without saying another word.