The Captains quarters had been furnished with mahogany and golden furniture, priceless paintings had covered the walls and various jewelled decorations adorned the mantelpiece. During the attack on the ship when Seth and his crew had boarded and taken the Dauntless class light cruiser for themselves, the quarters had been completely ransacked and destroyed. Seth spent so much time on the bridge, drinking with his crew or outside of the ship setting up deals; he rarely even spent time in his room, and had done little to repair it. A simple metal-framed bed was shoved in one corner; a simple wooden desk was set up to one side, covered with dataslates and various personal affects. In the centre of the room sat a large ebony table, all that was left of the original contents. The walls remained blank, and the carpet was musty from lack of care. Seth sat at the head of the table, pistol in several pieces in front of him. It was a standard issue auto-pistol, issued to Imperial Navy officers. It was heavier calibre than regular auto-pistols, built to last with special fragmenting ammunition designed to inflict minimal damage to ship systems. He expertly checked and cleaned each piece before setting them down on a square of red cloth. He slid it to one side and addressed the officers in front of him.

To his rights sat Brawnley, his visible features set in his usual scowl. Opposite Brawnley sat the infamous desperado and sharpshooter, Styx Ripfist. He was a tall and skinny man; bright intelligent eyes sparkled in a long, pinched face. His right hand was cursed with an ugly scar from the time an ork squig attempted to bite his hand off. He was dressed in grubby civilian clothes with his classic duster over the top, patched in a dozen places. His beloved hunting rifle was leaning against the table next to him, whilst his chest was covered in holsters where six revolvers lay. He had joined up with Seth's crew when he had been abandoned by his previous gang, and had no-where else to go. The man had attempted a coup on Seth multiple times, and each time Seth had ridiculed him in front of the entire crew. Despite this, Styx and Seth were fast friends, and Styx had been unofficially promoted by the crew to be their spokesperson during meetings with the officers.

The final officer at the table was the head engineer. He sat sullen and silent, his features hidden as they always were by an old fashioned gas mask with darkened eye-pieces. He was from the native to the deathworld Cyralix Beta, shown from his dark chocolate skin. The engineer was a large man, tall with broad shoulders and strong, calloused hands. Most of his implants were hidden by a light robe and suit of mesh armour. Draxus Vulkan had once been a celebrated Magos of the Cult Mechanicus and servant to the Machine God. He had been disgraced and thrown out of the order however, when his curiosity had grown too great, and he had committed heinous heresy, through upgrading a number of Imperial Leman Russ' and Chimera's, using methods untested by any Enginseer before him. Vulkan fled the order before they could rip out his implants and turn him into a cyborg slave; a servitor. He rarely spoke and spent almost all his time hidden in the dark and sweltering engine room, secluded and haunted by his own demons.

"Alright boys, we need a fix for this situation" Seth steepled his fingers and waited for the men in front of him to speak. Styx leant back in his seat and grinned at the Captain.

"Who says we need a fix? Madame Zafir may despise us, but she knows that we're the best smugglers willing to work for her. All you have to do is submit yourself to a little light torturing, and we can carry on with our next job."

Seth glared at Styx, and shook his head grinning "So you can take my ship while I'm locked up in chains in Madame Zafir's basement? I think not. Any suggestions Brawnley?" Brawnley's bushy eyebrows were squashed together as he frowned even deeper than normal.

"For once, I agree with Ripfist sir. We've both been through Madame Zafir's punishments, and we are the best of her freelancers, so she won't hurt you enough to stop you completing a new job. And don't worry about Ripfist sir, I'll keep an eye on him" Seth threw his arms into the air on mock disgust.

"So my supposedly closest friends refuse to even try to save me from torture? Vulkan, please tell me you still have some loyalty to your captain?"

Draxus was silent for several minutes, his black eye-pieces shining in the light as the other officers waited for him to speak. When he finally did begin to talk, his voice was deep and slightly muffled by the mask.

"I believe that I may have an idea. Not necessarily a solution, but possibly an offering that will soften the blows you will undoubtedly receive."

"Well?"

"Forty minutes from our current position in space is the planet Yssia. It is uninhabited currently, except from a small Imperial outpost. I assisted in its construction forty years ago. The outpost is simply for precautions, and the outpost has seen no military action. Its garrison will be minimal, and those Troopers that will be there are likely to be lax and undisciplined. Imperial regulations decree any outpost must maintain a certain level of weapons and supplies, meaning there will be a surplus of weapons."

Seth leant forward, suddenly very interested.

"Do you reckon they'll have hellpistols and shotguns?"

"It is possible, but not in the quantity of the shipment. What I suggest we do is raid the outpost's armoury for all its weapons. The contents, while not exactly what Madame Zafir requested, it should equal the worth of the original shipment in monetary value. Though this will not fully please Madame Zafir, it will certainly make sure she does not lose anything, which will hopefully lessen your punishment, partially finding a solution to this conundrum"

Seth was silent for a few seconds, staring straight forwards but not really seeing. He suddenly slid the fold of cloth that held the parts of his pistol together back in front of him, and began expertly piecing it back together. As he did so, he shot off orders to the others.

"Brawnley, get to the bridge and get the ship into an orbit around this planet. Vulkan, go down to the hanger and get the shuttle ready. Styx, gather a team of say, half a dozen men. I want level-headed types that won't snap under pressure. We meet in the hanger in fifteen minutes people, we have a robbery to do".