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"Surely you know that I have killed for much less than you have done to me." The cybernetically enhanced crime boss leaned forward in a wasted attempt at intimidation. "Am I right, Jack?"

Jack Harkness checked himself, realizing that now was not a good time to be flippant or directly insubordinate. He had to get out of the mess he had made, and his usual repartee would do nothing to improve the situation. It was difficult, though, for him to be serious about or even acknowledge having been captured, and now he had to do both those things.

At least for a short while.

His dark hair was tousled after the confrontation that had led to his capture, punctuating the severity in his blue eyes. His handsome face and defined cleft chin were disarming to most, but Droxi Cybeeb would not be distracted by his beauty. He would take his life as easily as if he were the homeliest Hoix ever to inhabit the galaxy.

"I know. I just…" he stopped. In this uncertain moment, less was more. He had to maintain control. The clever Human male discretely scanned his environment, looking for anything that might aid him in this situation.

His accuser was Droxi Cybeeb, a Cherital with a myriad of cybernetic implants indicative of his race's inclination toward the melding of the biological and technological, and his disposition was at a precarious balance point. Jack knew that the longer they talked, the more the balance would shift toward his proclivity to end bad business deals succinctly and finally.

Jack was indebted to Droxi to the tune of 300,000 credits after losing a shipment he was smuggling for him. Actually, losing the shipment wasn't exactly what had happened. The truth of the matter was that once he learned what he was hauling - medical supplies and pharmaceuticals - he had dropped them off on Paramortia, a planet that was in the midst of a particularly bad outbreak of The Strangles. He figured the Dwellers who inhabited that planet needed the medicine more than he needed the payday, and certainly more than whatever Droxi would gain from its transport. Jack had a strict rule against looking at cargo he was asked to transport or even asking any questions about it, but his friend and long-time partner, John Hart, had accidentally dropped one of Droxi's packages in the cargo bay, triggering a biohazard alert in the ship. At that point, Jack thought it would be prudent to break his own long-standing policy and find out what they were carrying on behalf of the Cherital gangster. He sealed off the small cargo area and had the onboard computer analyze the new compound that had been introduced into the ship's air. Once he realized what they were carrying, Jack's judgement had led him to set a new course, taking them to the pandemic-afflicted denizens of Paramortia.

Thankfully, Droxi didn't know any of that. As far as he knew, Jack had dumped the cargo before being boarded by a squad of Regulator troopers. Either way, the cargo was gone, and at least his lie told of an action that was marginally justifiable in Droxi's view. The truth would have likely resulted in his immediate demise. "I can pay you back for the shipment, Droxi. I swear by the Four Quadrants of the Galaxy I can make it up to you."

"Not the point, Jack." "I know, I know. But I'm sure there's something we can work out that could turn this unfortunate incident into something mutually beneficial. We've always been able to maximize our dealings with one another in the past, and I'm sure we can do that here and now, Droxi."

Droxi shook his head. "I'm not interested in anything that may or may not benefit you, Jack. I don't owe you anything."

"Right. What I meant, I guess, is that I can pay you way more than the shipment was worth, and I could maybe get to keep breathing." Jack smiled, hoping it would soften the foreboding figure who sat before him in the dimly lit room. "Listen, the way I see it, you can either take my word for it and allow me to pay you triple what I owe you, or you can kill me and you'll get nothing and I'll just get dead. Not a stellar way for either of us to end this transaction, if y'ask me."

Droxi leaned forward and the Cherital guards who flanked him on either side became slightly more rigid. Jack saw his favourite blaster tucked into the belt of the cyborg on the criminal's left, entirely out of his grasp even though it was as close as it was. Jack took a deep breath and resigned himself to accepting whatever Droxi's next words might be. This would be the moment in which his fate was decided.

"Jack Harkness," the cyborg chuckled, causing the external cables that connected parts of his cybernetic structure to his biological body to jiggle, "You play a good game. Triple, you say? Well, that is a considerable amount. But I think I have a better idea."

Uh, oh, Jack thought. Here it comes. Time to switch plans. If Droxi decided he was done with him, doing nothing carried a one hundred percent chance of premature death. But, even if he tried something really dumb, it would still give him at least a slim chance of living through this.

John was supposed to have been here by now, anyway. Where in the Four Quadrants was that man?

Stalling seemed like the best choice of tactic for the moment.

"Droxi," Jack interrupted. "You're forgetting something important."

The Cherital leaned back again, obviously unimpressed. "What, Jack? What have I forgotten?"

From outside the room, in the corridors through which Jack had been led as he was brought before Droxi Cybeeb, there came a yell and a crash, followed closely by more of the same. Droxi leaned over, looking past Jack to the source of the racket, and the guards each stepped forward and drew their weapons. All attention was on the commotion. Finally, Jack mused, smiling to himself.

There he is.

Jack leapt to his left, positioning his body on the outside of the guard closest to him. When he twisted to point his gun at Jack, he grabbed his wrist to control the weapon and thrust a boot into his solar plexus. He was a Cherital and a cyborg, but he still had a diaphragm and needed it in order to breathe. He blew out a rasp of air, doubling at his waist, and Jack withdrew his blaster from his belt and shot him at point-blank range.

Droxi grabbed the arms of his pseudo-throne and pushed hard with his feet, flipping it over backwards to give himself some temporary cover. The other guard was turning toward Jack, but Jack's gun was already pointed in his direction, and he only had to pull the trigger again to take him out, as well.

The cyborg flailed as he flew back, and a hail of sparks issued from the implant he had hit him in.

Droxi fired blindly with his blaster sticking out from behind the toppled chair, and Jack ducked even though the energy bolts from his gun missed him entirely. Droxi continued firing wildly, and there was a chance that he got lucky with one of them. When one of the shots came too close for comfort, however, Jack fell prone to the floor and his blaster clattered a short distance away from him.

As Jack scrambled for his weapon, Droxi finally looked over the chair and shot a series of bolts in the direction of his gun, causing him to scuttle backwards. One of his shots hit its mark, and Jack turned away from the small explosion, wincing as his blaster blew apart. By the time he recovered, Droxi was standing behind his fallen throne and had the draw on him.

Jack twisted to a sitting position on the floor and smiled sheepishly as he raised his hands.

"So, what was that I was forgetting?" Droxi snarled through gritted teeth. A series of shots from the back of the room narrowly missed the Cherital, and Droxi dropped once again to take cover. Several more shots narrowly missed hitting him.

John could have easily killed the Cherital, but Jack had instructed him not to. He preferred to avoid the potential war that course of action might provoke. Behind Jack, a thin lithe figure walked into the room with a rapid-firing rifle slung at his side. The man's back was straight, the red jacket skin tight as were the jodhpur pants even though he had NEVER ridden a damned horse.

"John Hart," Jack barked in Droxi's direction as he stood, brushing off his Great Coat and grinning with that air of confidence. "That's what you forgot, Droxi. You know that I never travel alone."

John's voice filled the room. "Jack! Let's go before we find ourselves outnumbered!"

Even John's voice had an angry tightness to it.

Jack ran toward his ally, who threw an object toward the wall.

John yelled again. "Fire in the hole!"

Jack turned his back as the device went off, sending debris throughout the room.

John allowed the shrapnel to bounce off his back like it was nothing… the Kevlar clothing working for him as always, and when Jack turned back, there was a rather impressive hole blown in the exterior wall, exposing the hazy auburn twilight above the harsh terrain outside.

Shots came from Droxi's position as Jack sprinted to the opening. John returned fire, giving Jack the opportunity to make it out the hole. As John followed, Jack stuck his head back inside and bellowed across the room. "I'll pay you back, Droxi!"

Shots careened off the wall, and Jack hid for a moment before popping back in. "Bye for now!"

By the time Droxi made it to the hole, joined now by a handful of cybernetically enhanced lackeys arriving too late to be of any real use, The Torchwood was lifting off and curling around to face the fresh ventilation hole John had added to the building.

A Cherital henchman fired at the ship, but Droxi pushed him off his feet in a fit of rage.

"It's too late now, you idiot!" He screamed as he looked up to the ship and, as it flew overhead, he could have sworn he saw Jack waving to him through the cockpit window.

This simply would not do!