"I mean it John. I don't like the way this thing sounds, I don't like the way it looks, I don't like anything about it. It stinks of a setup."

That's what Susan had said when he told her he was going down to meet with Michael. Sure, they'd had their problems, but as he had told her, Michael had never given him a reason to believe that he meant him any harm. Besides, he wasn't lying. John had checked with his contacts. They did have his dad. And that was going too far. He'd do anything to get him back.

So here John was, standing in front of possibly the seediest bar on Mars. He went inside, and found Mr. Garibaldi, sitting at a small table in the corner.

"Hello Michael."

"Captain. I was starting to think you weren't gonna make it here."

"Have you heard anything else about my father?" John asked.

"No, just that he's being held at a facility here on Mars. He's not being heavily guarded right now, 'cause Clark hasn't announced that he's been captured yet."

"So we need to move before that happens."

"Yea." John noticed that Michael seemed a little bit antsy. He kept looking over his shoulder. Of course, meeting with the infamous John Sheridan in a bar to pass him information would probably warrant a price on his head if anyone found out about their little meeting. Sheridan shrugged off the feeling, and continued.

"Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"You've already done it." With lightning speed, Michael slapped something on the back of his hand, and held it there with an iron grip. "It's a tranq," he said. "Don't fight it. Just give it up, or they're gonna hurt you!"

John eventually managed to pull away from Michael, and he fell into the wall at his back. Then he started to feel the effects of the tranq. His brain seemed like it was falling into a thick fog. He felt several men grab him, and felt them begin to rain punches down on him. He tried to fight back. He was acting purely on instinct. He held his own for a while, but he was losing. Fist after fist landed on him. He started coughing up blood as another fist crashed into his stomach. Then, he finally lost the battle, and the last thing he remembered before falling unconscious were the arms, pinning him to the ground, while one of their number continued to beat him.

When the men were satisfied that their captive wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, they stopped their fists. Then, a commotion from the back of the bar made them all turn their heads. Before they knew what was happening, a flurry of rangers scattered throughout the bar, disabling the aggressors. They didn't have time to react, and within a few seconds, the last man dropped to the ground. The Rangers sent glares around the bar, daring anyone else to try and oppose them. When no one challenged them, they silently picked up the limp form of John Sheridan, and carried him away.