Onward!: Chapter 2 - Part 3

Deacon Smith looked at the glass table that sat between Dwight Anders and himself. He scratched his chin with the inside of his palm.
"We have to disc. And you'll get to see it real soon, on one condition," Smith said.
"And that condition would be?" Dwight said. The smoke from his nostrils swirled upward towards the vents in the ceiling.
"Turn off the recorder first," said Smith.
"Can't do that, live-feed to the masses Deacon," said Dwight. He tapped his cigarette out onto similar metal ashtray.
"Do it or you can't see the disc," said Smith.
Dwight sighed and pressed the sphere's sides. It hovered but the crimson light in its belly died out slowly.
"There, now hurry up, we're losing money on this Deacon," said Dwight.
"No, we're not losing money, you and your company are. Now here's the condition. You get to see the disc and all its contents from beginning to end. But you have to report everything you see, exactly as you see it happening," said Smith. He sat back in his chair and relaxed.
"That's the condition? That's easy," said Dwight. He quickly pressed the orb again.
"Okay, I accept the condition. Just so you know folks, I'll be viewing the disc and reporting to you exactly what I'll be seeing," said Dwight.
"Screen, load disc D.S.2049-1. Full volume array," said Smith.
A vid-screen lowered itself from the ceiling and swiveled towards Dwight.
"Start disc," Smith said.
Dwight spoke as he watched the events of the DungJillie Factory feeds unravel before his eyes...
Previously on Onward!...

Dwight did not expect to see Deacon Smith out of his armor. He sat in the left hand corner of the room in darkness. Only the orange burn of a cigarette could be seen until he leaned forward into the light. Deacon wore the Skinsuit that was worn beneath any suit of armor. There were various plugs and hose feeds for the suit to connect to. Sitting at the other end of the conference room was the Mark 1 armor. It sat in a chair and leaned against the wall like some sleeping sentry. Dwight's forehead broke out in beads of perspiration.
"You remember that don't you? The way the suit gave you claustrophobia when you were sealed into it and the helmet came on. You remember the first time you vomited into your faceplate only to have the damn thing clean itself and smell like it was brand new. I know I remembered even before I put it on. Sit down Dwight," Smith said.
"Yeah, yeah I do Deacon. Now let's talk about what happened," Dwight said. He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small black ball that resembled a marble. He placed it on the table and pressed his fingers on its sides. A red light came from inside the sphere and it hovered above the table and stopped at the level of their mouths.
"Fancy, Orb Recorder from RugashiCorp., huh? I didn't think journalists made enough to pay for tech like that?" Smith said.
"We're online and the feed is open, so I suggest we begin. How does it feel to be called a City Hero Operator Smith?" said Dwight. He reached into his jacket pocket again and produced a cigarette.
Deacon Smith stood up and limped towards the table in front of Dwight Anders. He sat down and smashed his cigarette into one of the stainless steel ashtrays.
"Well Dwight, I'll tell you how I feel. I think it's a waste of time for people to call me a hero. I killed a man on the roof to get inside and that isn't something a hero does," said Smith. He paused a moment. "That's why I shouldn't be a hero. No room for them in this world anymore," Smith said.
"Tell me something then about the Drighton Spaceport Massacre then, or at least the key question that everyone has on their mind. Tell me where the disc that incriminates Marshal Amon is?" Dwight said.