I felt somewhat emboldened by Emmaline's compliment. I was no outcast to subterfuge and high class gatherings, but they always irked me unless I felt they were worth it. If this didn't yield positive results, I would likely be in a sour mood. However, Emmaline brightened my outlook. Perhaps this needn't be such a dull affair after all, and we stepped in and were greeted with the fanfare I had come to suspect. We danced for a small amount of time, admittedly to show off a bit whilst simultaneously trying to dissuade the proposals either of us were likely to receive. I was bitterly disappointed in that estimation, and my face went blank for a moment as we were mobbed. 

Before I knew it, the bodacious psyker and I had been separated and barraged with suitors and mistresses. Some of the fair women that flocked to me were very obviously married and looking for better prospects, whilst others were attempting to appear as untarnished virgins ready to be claimed. I had never been to Fenris, but talk spoke of a ferocious beast there called the 'kraken' with dozens of limbs that tore you to pieces. So for the first time in my life, I could say the sentence "I feel like a wolf brother initiate on a raft." At least twenty hands tugged at me or waved in my direction. I swear I was pinched thrice, and someone had the audacity to smack my bottom. I had to make sure no one accidentally grabbed at my power sword, and I had to keep myself from using it on the mob. 

I leaped out of there at the soonest sign of a weak breach in the wall of dresses, hopping back and landing beside three gentlemen in mercantile livery, the closest one sported a mutton chop beard I could never hope to achieve in my lifetime. Holding my hands out as the pursuers followed my wake, they stopped and watched me like terran deer. 

"Only a few at a time, ladies. I am but one man, after all," I assured them in my best sycophantic tone, the timber of my voice smoothing out to a princely hum that would have caused my skin to crawl if I heard it from any other mouth. They filtered in hurriedly but with a tad more control, fanning themselves and fluttering their lashes, a few of them squeezing their chests together in casual ways for my eye to catch. My smile was wide and silky, but my eyes were watching the exits and the outliers of the party. To the north, a keen-eyed man stood alone and watched as two officers spoke at a table meters away. To the east, two servants traded a slip of paper for some unknown purpose. At my right were three men who did not know what to do as they stood beside me, watching with interest or jealously, it was hard to tell. They spoke politely enough. The mutton-chop man had no chance to introduce himself, but I had overheard he was Haldemir, and I recalled the name in the logs in my dossier. Haldemir, a house that transported fuel across Moldar and to its two satellite moons. Their wealth having risen two centuries ago to great merit. 

As the women approached and spoke to me, I gave them varying degrees of greeting and unctuous compliments of their virtue and beauty. It allowed Emmaline to get what information she could while I distracted any jealous women that might take umbrage with her presence. As the time passed, however, I grew bored of the affair, though I did my best to hide it. Twirling a goblet of dammassine red in my hand, I muddled through the trenches of small talk with less and less fervor.

"What is a fine man like you doing at such a humble planet?" A raven haired woman of middling years inquired, her ball gown blue and squeezing out the best she had to offer.

"The food, my dear." 

"Tonight, my husband goes on a business trip to Tildarmae. Would you deign to escort me back on this lonely night?" A redhead with green eyes to match her envy asked of me. She fluttered her lashes with enthusiasm.

"I can call you a groundcar, my lady." 

"We haven't been properly introduced. I am Vidalia of Galmieux. Let's dance, and we can grant one another a massage in my private lounge after." A smokey voiced vixen offered as if she were granting me an honorable home of office.

"I'm sure you have an ointment for that." 

As the mistresses were quelled, the queue was mercifully disrupted at its halfway point, though by an unlikely savior. A younger man, perhaps my age, perhaps a year or two my junior, approached me with a withering glare. I could not imagine what I had done beyond speaking amicably to the women and the portly gentlemen beside me who chuckled and traded jokes as they slowly got drunk. The party was also quite large, the women around me likely a fifth of the crop of ladies that still danced and gallivanted about. 

"Let it be known I mark this insult sir," the mustachioed young man announced, standing over most of the women by a head. 

"To what insult are you referring to, old boy?" I queried honestly, chuckling as if he had given me a rousing good rib at the bellboy's expense. He held me in his gaze and waded through the gaggle of women, squaring up to my position. He pointed at the crowd. 

"That was my sister you just rebuked, sir." He said, and for the life of me I blinked and did my best to not truly laugh with incredulity. I succeeded, thank the Emperor, but truthfully this was a queer man. I dare not ask the prudent question of 'which one' so I tried a different approach. 

"My apologies. She is a lovely woman, but I am only on Maldor for business and short term pleasure. I am certain your sister deserves a man of commitment and faith befitting that of your noble house." I commented, and the barest flicker of my eye to the right caught Emmaline speaking to a tall, ominous fellow. Noted. When I looked back a micro-second later, the man seemed undecided on something, ascertaining whether my apology was in good faith or just plain good enough. 

"Perhaps she intimidated you," He said at long last. "But you are correct, sir. A fellow such as yourself should stick to quick women like the bint you walked in-." 

I backhanded the man. Hard. He staggered back and nearly knocked a short, perfumed woman over, and once he straightened he seemed as surprised as I felt. Inquisitor Kronus had always taught me to value the honor and well-being of those of my team, and even in cover it was hard of me to let go of those teachings. There was something else in me that felt particularly vindicated of the slap when I realized the acid comment was directed to Emmaline, but I didn't explore that bit. Rather, we both looked at one another. I let some of my anger show so as not to give off the cool reserve of my office. 

"You go too far, sir." I warned tempestuously. "Speaking of the Lady Von Morganstern in such a disagreeable manner is unbecoming of a gentleman. Perhaps my comment on your house was unwarranted. On Jupiter, this would not inherit." 

"How dare you, you insufferable popinjay!" He accused angrily. I wondered if he had ever looked into a mirror. The mark of my hand-print was now growing bright red on his cheek. With a quick movement, he reached for the elaborately hilted sword at his belt. Women squealed and the men beside me backed away, save for stout-hearted Haldemir, who watched with rapt interest. The man held the point less than a foot from my neck, but I did not flinch. "You are a knave sir, Sol system or no. I challenge you to a duel of honor." 

"Here? Now?" I asked curiously.

"How very bohemian," My portly companion of circumstance huffed. 

"I concur, my good Haldemir." I said. This young man must have been spurned recently. Only an idiot or someone who had something desperate to prove would cause such a fiasco in public, particularly with a man from the Jovian clans. I looked at him flippantly. "I have nothing to gain from this. I did not dishonor you nor your sister, sir. You dishonored the lady Von Morganstern and I merely responded in a fashion honor demanded. Is this the manner of Moldar? To jump on any slight?" 

A few of the older men with grey streaks in their beards and wizened faces nodded in agreement to my assertion. The young fop knew I was right, but he had a choice. Back down and apologize, or go with his pride and win the duel. Losing was not an option to him, for if he did so he would be both dishonored and emasculated in front of every suitable woman (and male) peer he knew. I saw a gleam in his eye, and I knew he would choose the stupid decision. 

"Nothing to gain? Well if honor is not enough for you, sir. Then ask of what you wish for, sir, and I will grant it." 

"I haven't a sword," I confessed, and at his look to my belt, I shook my head. "This is an ornamental weapon," I lied. "I would not dare mar its blade." 

"Fetch us a sword!" The fellow cried to his servants, who rushed out to fulfill the task, pushing aside other servants and apologizing profusely to the dancers. He grinned at my direction. "Now you will name your price. It will not matter, as you will not win against the swordplay of Jacoby Bowlingcock."

I burst out laughing. This time I did break character, but it was so unexpected I did not truly prepare myself for such a challenge. Perhaps it did my cover well. An experienced Inquisitor would have given the name due diligence, but I felt Bowlingcock was the epitome of poor names. Hell, I still do to this day. He, however, did not feel the same way. His entire face grew red, causing my mark to disappear as the rest of his profile matched. 

"I-I apologi-" I began half-heartedly. 

"Save it!" He cried, waving the sword menacingly. "If I am to win this duel, I will speak of your adept however I like."  

"No," I said, sobering up. "That I cannot allow. But if you win, my date and I will leave this planet tonight without a fuss and pay a sum equal to the food of this party to you and your family for honor tarnished." 

"Very good, and if you win?" 

"You will grant me a title of land here on Moldar, in the capital of Gralinmakke." I demanded icily.

That surprised everyone in our vicinity, who now watched in fascination. Jocoby blinked, clearly thinking it odd. It was, admittedly. But for my investigation I could either garner a favor from one of the lords on the council, or use the right of nobility in the capital to join the council. If this idiot was going to keep me from doing the former, I'll get it with the ladder. He asked me varying questions such as 'Jupiter not good enough for you' but I ignored him. Instead, I focused on the sword that was presented to me by the servant that brought it. A cursory glance showed me it was a fine weapon. A pallasch cut-and-thrust sword, straight bladed and double fullered. The hilt was of the basket style, but not covered in leather or restrictive, rather all of the bars flow into the knucklebow and converge on one point at the butt of the sword to give the hand breathing room to maneuver. If I had to guess, the blade itself was thirty five inches in length. 

I could not tell if this was an unusual affair or not. Half the party continued on as if nothing was happening, and the music even kept playing. Some people were so into their drinks that they did not look my way, and Emmaline had begun dancing with the villainous looking man to the right. I admired her dedication. I hopped my antics were not harming her information gathering. At the southern end of the Grand Banquet Hall, a place was cordoned off for the two of us and the half of the party that was there chattered and whispered and gathered around in a wall of flesh. I unbuckled my belt, and handed my power sword, force staff, and jacket and cloak with my auto-gun to Lord Haldemir. It was a good gamble, as after the duel he gave them all back in pristine condition. 

"First blood drawn from the torso," Jacoby called. "And we have an agreement. Your payment and departure, or your land!" 

"Good man," I said, and could not hide a smile. Jacoby seemed confident, but Inquisitor Kronus had shown me various style of blade fighting, and I had practiced with him thrice weekly for ten years. Power Swords were like any blade, just more effective on the modern battlefield. They required the same training and care. 

"Sister, tell us when to begin," Jacoby called, and I saw a woman step out of the crowd. I was fairly certain she was one of the ones who had pinched me. Her hair was blonde, but it hadn't quite the rich luster of my companion, and truth be told I don't even [i]remember[/i] speaking to her. She raised a hand, gave her brother a knowing look, and then a disapproving one my way, and counted to four before dropping her hand and shouting "Begin!" 

Time seemed to slow.

I am sure you know this, but sword duels are not like what you hear in the stories. They are quick, bloody, and unceremonious. Skill is not the only factor in a duel. It has to do with your health, your strength, your mood, even what you last ate. And a bit of luck on the side. However, if you keep your wits about you, skill can decide a match swiftly. 

Jocoby swiped at my blade, and I blocked with the strong of my sword and riposted with a perfect thrust. He leaped back and swiped at me, a blur of steel crossed my vision as I pressed the attack, cutting the shoulder of his undershirt and ruining it. He hacked at my center, blades clashing loudly. To his credit, he regrouped quickly and stabbed at me quicker than I would have thought. With a deft movement of my blade and sacrificing the cuffs on my left wrist, I knocked the blade aside and cut him across the torso with a slash that was less shallow than I had anticipated. With a quick gesture, I knocked the sword out of his hand with the flat of my blade and let him sink to his knees, defeated. He idly gestured around the bleeding wound, breathing in heavy disbelief. 

Flippantly, I wiped the sweat from my brow and walked over to the Lord Haldemir, who handed me my coat. As I was bleeding from my left arm and apparently from a small cut under my eye, I wasn't going to put my coat back on. But I strapped my belt and power sword onto my hip and collected my things, making idle talk with Haldemir. 

"Have you been to Venus, sir Deckard?" Haldemir asked quizzically. 

"Ah! The finest parties on Venus. The wine is to die for." I replied. "You might find good business there." 

"Truly?" 

After another few minutes and with assurances from Jacoby's father they would honor the agreement, I made my way to the northern balcony and leaned on the balustrade, awaiting Emmaline.