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Looking into the cell of Prisoner Number 9666, one might forget they were looking into the cell of notorious gang leader, vigilante, and general nuisance, The One-Armed Bandit. The cell itself had been kept pristine, not a spot to be seen, everything arranged nicely. Well, as nicely as nailed-down furniture could be arranged. The prisoner himself seemed to never move of his own accord, always sitting statuesque at the desk, a soft pencil scribbling almost absently away at a pad of paper. Though common sense and protocol would've forbidden him even having these objects, money trading hands behind the scenes convinced the guards to allow the transgression.

Though The One-Armed Bandit's hair was trimmed to protocol lengths, a lack of product in space-jail left it looking messier than he'd like. A five o-clock shadow accented his features just slightly, making his concerned scowl look that much more intense. His eyebrows danced up and down on his forehead in contemplation as he paused momentarily from his writing, distracted by a steady rhythm beating closer and closer through the hall. When the heavy thudding of a guard's footsteps stopped just at his cell, Jesse looked up from his paper, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. 

"You know the drill, 9666. Hands out behind you, no sudden movements." Came an unenthusiastic voice, holding out a pair of handcuffs. Jesse complied, and the guard lowered the forcefield to lock the prisoner down.

[color=hotpink]"You know the drill as well, Davis. My name is Jesse, I'd hope after all this time we're close enough to be on a first name basis."[/color] He frowned as the tight metal of the handcuffs clamped down with a loud click. Jesse flexed, testing his range of movement in the handcuffs, before looking the guard in the eyes. [color=hotpink]"What, no fuzzy handcuffs?"[/color] He asked in a deadpan voice, eyes sternly staring at the guard before the facade was broken by a cackle of a laugh. 

The guard responded only by rolling his eyes and motioning for the prisoner to get moving. Jesse was lead throughout the winding halls for far longer than he would've liked -the nigh-identical hallways seemed neverending, monochrome paint on the walls only interrupted by the colorful string of curses flung by the wildly different array of prisoners he passed. Some shouted because they supported Jesse, and were afraid he might be taken to the 'chopping block', so to speak. Some because they were against Jesse, and very much wanted what the others feared. Jesse himself had no idea of his fate, but had an overwhelmingly positive feeling. 

After the first turn, Jesse began prodding verbally at the lone guard with which he walked.

[color=hotpink]"Pablo."[/color]

"Nope."

[color=hotpink]"Paco."[/color]

"Nope."

[color=hotpink]"Palmer?"[/color]

"Nope."

[color=hotpink]"Pam?"[/color]

"...Nope."

[color=hotpink]"What? Pam can be a very masculine name."[/color]

"We're here." The guard said, a very slightly annoyed tone. 

[color=hotpink]"I'm more than halfway through the alphabet, Davis. I'll get your name one of these days."[/color] Jesse said in a mock disgruntled voice before being pushed not-so-gently through a doorway, into a room he hadn't seen before. The table and chairs before him didn't catch his attention quite as much as the guards armed with shotguns lining the walls. His left eye lingered by each guard, special software within the eye marking each guard with a red angry face that hovered just by their head when he looked at them. He then turned to the far end of the table. Though the men in business suits were unknown to him, the man in between the two was all too well known by Jesse, and marked by the same red angry face -this one wearing a crown. The warden, a harsh man by the name of Hardying. 

Jesse stretched out, contorting his body in order to maneuver his cuffed hands to the front of his body rather than the back. He looked at the other two already seated before him at the table. One face he recognized very well -Callum Bowman, Pirate King. The head honcho of the gang Jesse had devoted so much sweat, blood, and money to taking down. Fourty-two times, Jesse had attempted assassinations on the man, and each of which was foiled. Next to the pirate king sat a pretty face that rang a bell in Jesse's memory, though far less personally than Callum's. Perhaps a face that had come up when he was combing through the scum of the galaxy for a suitable assassin to hire?

He smiled at the two as he was instructed to sit, his artificial eye marking Callum with the words "Pirate King", and the woman with "Sexy Assassin(?)". Voice low, he leaned in close to Callum. [color=hotpink]"Huge fan of your work."[/color] He said, extending a hand to shake. The motion ruffled the fabric of his sleeve, pulling it back just enough to bare the first few inches of his wrist. Amidst the chaotic sleeve of tattoos apparent on the flesh was the Black Stars emblem with a bright pink cross drawn through it, along with a list of similarly colored tally marks numbering somewhere in the neighborhood of forty.