Coming back up from being knocked out was unlike falling asleep, or even like being drugged. You remember precisely the moment you blacked out, and when you wake up the time isn't blurry, it's just missing.
Leon rolled his head, several parts of his body screaming in protest and went over his missing time.
His Remlock boots thudded dully on the hangar floor. He was going over in his head what he was going to say to his father. Then the lights went out. Laser sights. Then a flash. And now...
Leon wondered where he was. The room looked to Leon to be a stereotypical interrogation room. One high powered light was the only illumination. A single door. A metal table. A definitely-not-two-way mirror. Leon shifted his weight. His arms barely moved. He was bound to the chair.
Perfect. He thought. They didn't exactly go over Federal interrogations in Flight School. Judging by how his sweat dripped down to the floor below, there was gravity. He guessed it was likely a station. Unless he'd been out far longer. He could be on a planetary base. He knew so very little.
The door opened. A man in a black suit entered, bald, pale skin, no discernible features and the door snapped and hissed shut behind him. Pressurized airlock doors. The man's boots clunked dully as he walked to the opposite side of the chair. The tell-tale clunk of magboots in the gravity config. Station then.
"Leon Falkner." The man said in a casual tone. The man sat down and steepled his fingers.
"Agent." Leon said, his voice was hoarse but he managed a sarcastic tone.
"Straight to business then, Pilot". The agent said, tapping the metal table. The man threw out the last word like a slur. The table projected a hologram of a Cobra Mk3, looked pretty standard, no aftermarket mods. The ship rotated slowly in front of them.
"Does this ship look familiar, Mr. Falkner?" The agent said. Leon shook his head.
"I see about fifty Cobras every time I dock." Leon was confused. Was this why they had arrested him? The agent tapped the board again. A Type-6 Transporter appeared. Then a Type-7. A Dolphin. Orca. Two more Cobras. An Adder and finally a Hauler. The ships appeared in a small fleet facing Leon and slowly rotating.
"How about these? Do you see the pattern yet Mr. Falkner?"
"No but I suppose you're about to explain it to me anyway." Leon quipped.
Leon's head snapped back, reeling from the punch that had been too fast for his eyes to follow.
"You pirate piece of shit. This is my favorite part of the job. Watching scum like you squirm." The agent adjusted his cuff-links in a non-nonchalant manner. "What would you say your main source of income is, Falkner?"
Leon's bank balance flashed into the projection. 62 million in liquid credits. An estimated 338 million in solid assets.
"Bounty Hunting. Mercenary work." Leon said flatly. He had no idea what this asshole's angle was.
"We have you connected to a group called the Mercs of Mikunn." The agent leaned back in his seat.
"Well, that must've taken a lot of work, seeing how their name is printed on all my ships and it's on my Pilot's Profile." Leon said, his eye beginning to swell shut.
"What do you know about the Guild of Sefry?"
Leon's blood ran cold. The agent smiled.
"Ah, there we go. Now you know why you're here." The agent gestured, and the ships he had previously brought up on the projection were carried forward. "Sixteen ships, you were contracted to destroy for this Guild. And you did so. Do you deny it?"
"I have rights under Federation Law." Leon spat. "You have no jurisdiction in that sector."
"You killed sixty-seven people." The agent retorted. Leon was shocked.
Just another job. He had thought. Just another work day. Leon said nothing in response.
"This is what I hate about you fly-boys." The agent said, rising and walking around the room. "Your outlook on life becomes so cheap. You have over five hundred confirmed combat kills in ships alone. Pirates. Smugglers. Ne'er do-wells. We've also got you smuggling slaves in the Empire, weapons across the border of Alliance space, narcotics, contraband. And now, this. Acting under the flag of a pirate organization." The agent looked towards the 'mirror'.
"What do you want?" Leon said.
"Names. Locations. Details of their next moves. These pirates are a stain on the outskirts. This Guild alone is expanding to numerous systems."
"I can't tell you that." Leon said.
"Correction. You will not at this time, reveal said information." The agent said, with Federal precision to his words. "You won't be going anywhere until this is resolved. I hope you enjoy that wall, fly-boy. It's the most freedom you're going to have for a long, long time."
The agent left, the light switching off when he did so. Leon was left in the dark.