There were exactly 512 rivets on the ceiling of Cell 432, C Block of Sugarland. God only know's I've counted them enough. Every day for the last 18 months and they haven't changed. Same position all day, every day and likely to remain that way for the next 18 years. Things don't ever change in there, so I wasn't banking on much else happening. Just another of these lowlife's hanging off what ever mental capacity they had left to deal with being here. I had too much to waste though, I had it all out there in the open. I wanted it all back. But dreams are one of the few precious commodities you still own in the depths of Sugarland and that's all they are; dreams.
I had to get out, I had to reach someone on the outside to help me get out of here. Or maybe there was someone on the inside who may be able to get me out of this hole. But I need time in the rec area, I got to talk to one of my boys. The last time I saw the outside of this box was medical four weeks ago and I have an hour of walking up and down the corridor at midnight every day. I think it was midnight, anyway.
For now I got to get a message out. Some where and some how, I'll find someone.
It had been months since Hank had heard word of Moka. Rumours were varied from death to becoming an LPi agent, hiding with the Outcasts to being in the Rheinland Government. Nothing stuck which left Hank and the rest of Moka's loyalists confused and in despair. Questions arose about the authenticity of each of these rumours but everyone came up trumps.
Word came in however just a few days ago about a foiled rescue attempt by the Sirian Rogues at breaking out a high profile Rogue in transit to Sugarland but details were sketchy at best. Hank kept persevering however and finally a break through. A junker on Rochester mentioned something about the raid and let slip that the Rogue was actually Lord Moka himself. Apprehensive about the authenticity of such a claim, the loyalists started digging into the claim and found that it indeed was the Lord himself.
With renewed hope, Hank and the rest of the crew started developing a plan to get him out. Gone were the days of snatch and grab as security was tighter these days, especially with a renown crime Lord to ensure never gets out.
Hank and No Thumbs Joe began developing what may well be the greatest escape from such a facility whose reputation of total incarceration meant that nothing gets out posed an almost impossible challenge. They needed someone on the inside, and they needed someone who worked with Moka in the past. Someone who was the enemy but on the other hand, was not.
Messages left with the Junkers had proven futile, Hank had hoped James Trenton would have been in contact by now but alas no word had been received. He had visited Rochester several times in the hopes contact had been made but every time he left with sorrow in his heart.
One of the Loyalist's most prize possessions was the personal memoirs of Moka which contained a lot of other avenues Hank was hoping would help him and his brothers in the quest to rescue the Lord. He was reading through it and came across an old contractor upon whom made a lot of money working for the Liberty Rogues, particularly in finding and destroying targets. Hank hoped that this persons unique skills would helkp in the grand scheme of things, so he set about devising a plan to break Moka out of Sugarland. If what he was thinking was going to work, he needed the best of the best to help him achieve this.
The Loyalists still had access to the vast wealth of Lord Moka, but was it enough to pay this contractor for their help? Hank assigned his most trusted, and educated, members to start calculating the cost of this great escape while No Thumbs Joe set about to contact the Lane Hackers with assistance in technology. They should be able to supply the group with the intelligence they needed to track LPI movements around Liberty in the hopes that when the time came, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
It had been some time since Hank and his supporters devised a plan to get Lord Moka out of Sugarland, but it required more time and patience.
It had seemed the Reavers weren't interested in helping and the Hackers were busy doing their thing. Something else had to happen. As Hank was about to board his fighter to head from Fortaleza to McMurray he was stopped by a Junker.
"They got him Mr Hank, they got him!" Hank was puzzled for a moment, but pressed the Junker for the rest of the story. "Lord Moka, Mr Hank. The specialists we hired on your behalf got him!" Hank was in disbelief, what was this crazed Junker waffling on about. He followed the Junker back to the bar and found another pleased looking Junker beaming at him. He confirmed what the initial Junker had said and gave Hank the details to where to meet the rescue team.
As Hank was about to depart, he looked at the pair of Junker who delivered the message and instructed them to not breathe a word of this to anyone else.
As Hank's ship was undocking he felt a sense of relief and bewilderment at the same time. How did some unknown individuals succeed so easily while the Rogues themselves had failed so miserably?
Looking around the room of the medical bay on Buffalo, any one would mistake it for a public changing room. Concrete and steel unpainted. entombed the area in a hazy grey hue underneath the off-yellow light dangling from the ceiling. The surgeons tools looked like a recruit pinched someones cutlery and the hand basin looked like a trough. There were still worse places to be getting a check up before being given the all clear to proceed. Like Sugarland.
Moka's attention was focused on all the typically unimportant stuff but instead all the things that would help him come to grips with being home. Things that aren't in a three by four bright, sterile white examination cell. Like troughs, steel and concrete. Still plenty of ugly people though.
Hank entered and beckoned to Moka, "Lord, we've been waiting for you. Are you good to rebuild your dream?" The thought hadn't yet actually crossed his mind but as soon as Hank laid that seed Moka knew this happened for a reason. "Yes, Hank. I am going to take back what is rightfully mine! Let's let them know that Lord Moka is back in business."
Hank guided Moka through the halls to the mooring bay and that's where Moka saw his glorious ship, and as they climbed aboard Moka took one look back into the airlock and grinned at the remaining Rogues that were standing there and said "Lord Moka is back, tell the boys"
