2011-01-09 - A welcome prisoner

Since last night, during the assault on the Bellforest Tower, the Maganac Freighter has been traveling quickly towards the New York area. An area that the EFA has control over - but only hardly so, thanks to its rebuilding effort having been somewhat 'halted'. Red tape and all that, along with the fact that process had been slow after all. As the approach the outer areas of NewYork, they come to a rockface... or more like a crater... which opens a set of hangard doors on the side that normally look rather well hidden.

And whilst it goes in, Quatre is still in the medical bay, resting himself next to the Divine Crusader whom he had captured last night. A lot of security measures had been put into place to make sure this person would not escape, or put master Quatre's life at risk. But she wasn't bound or otherwise kept from moving. He simply... waited for her to open her eyes or show any sign of life.

Rashid in the meanwhile, is in the front of the ship, looking out through the window as they start passing through the large hangar doors. He's stroking his beard as he is reading a rather small report of what Quatre had asked him to look into; Remille's name, and some basic information on who she was.

Remille Fortner was at last starting to come around. The Frightener pilot hand gently moved, she could feel the vibration, even as small as it might be.

Great..

Her eyes slowly opened, there deep sapphire blue slowly adjusted to the light levels. As she did, she realized she wasn't on the dropship..

That meant she was right and she didn't make it. That then brings the question of /where/ was she? Who did get her? Katharon? EFA?

She gently grimaced, but it was quickly moved away as she started to move slightly. She was silent, quiet, even as her sharp eyes feel on Quatre. She moved her head back slightly, her eyes apparently having trouble focusing on him at such a close distance.

The information that would be drawn up on her was indeed little. Her name was Remille Fortner. She was part of the 'Raven' faction group of the Trailers. Employed to the Divine Crusaders by contract. Born on Mars; but beyond this mostly everything was blocked off at the higher level.

"See if we can find more. Perhaps some of the people higher up have some information that could prove useful to master Quatre." Rashid hands the report to the co-pilot of the freighter, who was signalling the inside of the hangar for a landing spot. It was not too large of a place, but could keep at least one Argama if it had to. But it'd be a tight fit. Freighters were easier. And there was an entire wall lined with WMS-03 Maganac troopers.

The freighter slowly begins to descend as its been given a location to park, right next to a second freighter which looked like a mere husk - being used for spare parts. A few men on the ground quickly run off to make room for the space-capable ship to park.

In the medical bay in the meantime, a slight smile forms on Quatre's face as he feels the girl's awakening somewhat. Or perhaps that little twitch of her hand had been enough. His eyes slowly open, and his lips part; "Ah, miss Fortner, welcome to the land of the living." The blonde is a mildy mannered youngster who speaks constantly with a kind voice. He doesn't get up though, giving her room to do whatever she wanted to do. "I am incredibly sorry for the actions of the man that caused you such harm. He wasn't one of mine." He then waits for a response from her - to make sure she was awake enough for his introductions.

Remille Fortner stared at him for a moment as she could feel the vessel she was on moving? Going down?

Landing perhaps? Landing where?

She then sat up, carefully. She wasn't giving much facial expression the pain she was feeling, maybe a small hint, but she seemed well trained in ignoring such pain. Her eyes then scan the room. Looking around, looking out past the medical room.

Guards..

Even if it was to land, she have trouble getting out, not till she had more information to where she was; Some sense of direction. Those eyes of her closed for a moment, before they moved back over to Quatre once more, staring him square in the eyes as he spoke with his 'kind' voice that he was sorry for actions.

Her eye brow raised, but no words slipped from her lips.

She remained silent for awhile, before she at last spoke. "Where am I and what do you want with me? If it is information you once, I fear you will find that I will not be very forth coming." She says it all with a straight face and a slight narrow of her eyes in the end.

Quatre blinks a few times when the woman finally speaks. He actually had expected worse of a tone. Or maybe her swinging at him. After all, even someone like him was not immune to thinking certain ways when one knows the reputation of the Divine Crusaders. "I'm glad." He doesn't explain why, he simply says that he is glad, before he finally continues to give her answers to her questions. "Do not worry. I don't want any information from you, other than maybe if you have certain allergies to any kind of foods." He muses, chuckling a little as he speaks.

"You are on a medical bay at the moment, on board the freighter of my Maganac friends." He continues to give her a sense of where she is. "You are merely our guest here, though I guess you would call it a prisoner - as I cannot currently let you leave." It was somewhat of a foolish remark really. A person who could not leave was a prisoner, surely. Then why was he trying to make it sound like this was a good thing?

"I do admit, I have some ulterior motive. But that really doesn't matter right now. What matters now is..." He pauses a moment and looks at her more properly. "How are you feeling? Thirsty? Hungry perhaps?" He honestly sounds worried for her wellbeing. But then, perhaps she thought of this as merely a trick?

Rashid in the meantime wanders through the freighter as the ship has settled down, and opens the sidedoor and makes his way down using a lowered ramp. He throws some commands out. Preperations for receiving the 'guest'. After all, preperations had been made on the freighter. But not yet at this base. It'll take a bit to get all of the Maganac mobile suits secured.

The female armored core pilot listens to Quatre, watching how he moves, the afflictions in his voice. She was taking in all information about the young man before the thirty two year old. She glanced back out again, before she looked back at him again.

'Guest' huh? How 'cute'. She thought to herself as she flexed her left hand, before tightening it again. Was she perhaps mostly left handed? She then rubbed her hand with the other, looking at it before her eyes went back to him again.

She didn't answer his question but she did narrow her eyes slightly, "..I suggest you for your own safety and for the safety of you men that you allow me to leave, sir. My main employer will not be /very/ happy at this circumstances and he will do whatever means necessary to reobtain me. This even means burning down the planet if so be it."

She then checks her boots, no knife.. damn.. but while she was down there, she straightened them. "You will have seventy two hours to comply-- and that was at the exact moment you took me. So how ever much longer you have." She then looks at him once again. "Trust me, you don't want to get on my employer's /bad/ side."

She then fixed her jacket, noting with the slight movement her own hand-gun was also missing. They did a good job, she didn't even feel the spare in the pocket of the jacket. "As for myself, I am fine, sir."

Quatre's smile falters a little as she makes such outragious claims, before he simply shows that normal smile again. "If they really would burn this planet for you, you must be quite the important person. But I really don't think that'll be happening. Especially not since... well... I don't think your unit is even sending out /any/ kind of electronic signals anymore. I am not sure if they could find you even if they wanted to." He pauses for a moment, then suddenly raises his hands. "I don't mean that to threaten you. I just think that it would be somewhat rediculous to leave already. Especially to join people once more who seem to think so little of... innocent lives."

He knew she was part of the Ravens, amongst the Trailers, whom he usually had some decent contact with at times. After all, he was one of the contributors to their income at times. The young arab proceeds to watch the girl as she so 'inconspicuously' tries to check for her weapons. He knew he would have too, but he doesn't let her notice that he realized what she'd been doing. As if he were some innocent child. Even Quatre can keep secrets sometimes. "Besides. The Divine Crusaders aren't that crazy as to burn this planet down, are they?" Does he truly believe she is simply employed by the DC? Or is this a well veiled attempt at drawing some information about her?

"Oh, reminds me. I do appologize, but when you were out cold, I did check you wallet." He points at one of her pockets. "Don't worry, I didn't steal anything from it. I simply wanted to know who I had in my medical bay." Her name had been the same as how she'd announced herself at the Tower. But sometimes, people keep secrets even during an assault like that. "Oh, which reminds me. Your ehhh... Armored Core? I am afraid it is in a severe state of... disrepair."

Remille raises a brow with her narrowed sapphire eyes. Oh silly earthers, how they did not realize just what a destructive force a war machine could be. More so when that war machine was a single individual. "If you do not believe I speak the truth, then I will not be held responsible for what comes." She states calmly. She then crosses one leg over the other as she rests her arms on her crossed leg. She was actually very calm in such a strange situation.

She didn't seem upset about being caught or even worried. If anything, she acts like she has done this a thousand times before. After all, she was trained at a younger age then many would like to see someone trained. She listens to him for a bit, reaching into her pocket of her jacket and pulling out a case, which was small. It was missed it would seem cause it was a pair of glasses at which she unfolded then placed on her face. She then pushed them up on the bridge of her nose before she looked at Quatre; Much better.

"I also do not know what the divine crusaders would do. They are a rather crazy bunch and have little concern for life. I am also a hired gun. They send me to do my job and I pull the trigger. They pay well and I do my job." She the raises a brow as he motions to her wallet. She quickly pulls it out and checks it, even though he said he didn't, she just double checks.

Everything was stil there. Good. "Armored Core yes." She then looks at him, "The Nightingale -" She also adds in, "- I know what state it is in and that it is a totaled machine. It happens from times, that is why we keep spares. Comes with the work." She says sharply.

Remille then double checks her wallet, moving the picture out slightly to see Boyle. She snorts softly. Gah-- she wont hear the /end/ of this once she gets out. It was bad enough of his position, it only add more fuel to his fire. She then stuffs the picture back before pocketing it once again.

"..I also don't think I caught your name, sir."

"Quatre Raberba Winner." The blue eyed arab introduces himself, now that she has asked my name. "My appologies. I wanted to name myself earlier, but it must have slipped my mind." He bows his head a bit, seeking forgiveness from her for such an outragious mistake. "As for the Nightingale. I can offer it to be repaired. Though, I am afraid my corporation doesn't have much experience with them, so you might need to give them a hand." Wait, was he offering for her to repair her own unit? After he'd captured her? How did that even make sense? Did he plan to put explosives or something? No. Quatre's mind is free of such evil plans.

"But to a more serious topic." The young man finally stands up from his seat and wanders over to a sink, reaches under it, and opens a little fridge. From it, he withdraws something that looks like a general brand beverage. "Would you like something to drink?" He offers, standing there with his back turned towards her - looking through the fridge whilst kneeled to see if he could find something suitable for the girl. He hadn't even reacted to the fact that she wore glasses. Not yet anyhow.

"Oh, and. I was curious. Who's the guy in the picture? I mean, if you don't mind me asking." After all, he didn't want to pry, or make her feel like she had to talk. She was a guest. And so it would remain. "Your brother, I assume?" He adds. After all, they'd seemed so much alike. Well... whatever her training might have been. This certainly is not exactly... the kind of thing she may have been prepared for. No questioning. No threatening. No whatever. Just... hospitality?

The ship was down, wasn't it? Yes, no more movement. It was on the ground.

Odds of escape were slim, since she didn't know the base's layout, but maybe she could run faster than the guards? Maybe she could slip out and steal some tech clothing? The choices were going quickly in her mind, even as he started to go for a drink. "The Nightingale is scrapped. Without the proper equipment from my employer, she is nothing but scrap for the yard." Remille says calmly.

He then turns his back to her, asking if she wanted a drink? Was he this-- stupid? This much of a fool?

Perhaps his guards were more armed then she gave them credit for?

The female pilot narrowed her eyes, her sapphire eyes strolled between him to slowly the door. Her leg went uncrossed slowly, quietly; Her motions very slow, but yet she held up the conversation. "I do not see how a drink could be a /more/ serious convesation. For someone who has just captured someone you take things far to lightly. That could one day get you killed, Mr. Winner."

She then slowly rises to her feet, the case still in her hand, she spun it gently in her hand. The gears turning, her eyes narrowing, but her voice remaining calm. "My Brother, yes."

Then with that question answered she then quickly darted for the door out. She could have turned her attention on him, but far as she was concerned, he was not her concern; The guards were. As she quickly came out, she maybe only had a moment, she spun the glasses case to try and impact one of the guards between the eyes, and then attempted of the second came to use her slimmer form to get around them and knock them out quickly with a sleeper hold.

Though she was taking a chance, all she needed to do was get out of the ship, get into the base, and then make her way for a vent or something to hide under to become out of sight, to out of mind.

The first guard lets out a yelp as Remille goes for his head and knocks his head against doorsil as she smashes her little glasses-case into his head. Quatre of course notices that this is the beginning of an escape and simply turns around, shaking his head. He sighs. "Really now. So violent." He mutters and begins to slowly walk after her whilst the other guard is floored by the sleeper hold - during which the guy had tried to grab for her arms... but failed.

Outside however, she meets four rather confused men who were all standing in the hall and quickly form a neat line between her... and the only exit down this hall. There was a door on her right, but it would lead her to a dead end; another room. "She's trying to escape!" One of the men shouts. And the suddenly. Boom. Boom. Heavy feet fall onto the ground as an enormous gorilla of a man comes around the corner, wearing a pair of glasses and a worried grill on his face. He didn't look too bright. "Now now there, lady-friend. Settle down." The clearly arab man talks slow as well. But he was the kind of guy that took up most of the hallway due to sheer muscle.

Quatre then slowly follows the woman from behind and places his hands on his sides. "There's no need to bring harm to them, you know?" He states calmly. He then bends down next to the guy who she'd gotten in a sleeper hold and tries to check for his pulse. Gotta make sure he's still alive. In the distance in the meanwhile, the mechanical sound of a door slowly closing can be heard. The Maganac work fast. "Now settle down." One of the four men who'd formed a 'barrier' in front of her moves his hands up and down, as if persuading her to do just that; to sit. "We're not going to harm you. There's no need for violence." Like an adult trying to put a child's mind to ease. Another man in the meantime whispers somewhere in the background; "Tssk, no respect for master Quatre's hospitality."

Remille studies the problem. They were surrounding her and the biggest guy was blocking her way. She stood there calmly, even as Quatre came out. Her eyes darted between all four men, including the big guy. She could hear the mechanical sound of a door.

This caused her eyes to narrow then with a sudden bolt of speed, she leaped to almost run along the wall, before pushing off and then attemping to slide right under, or past the large man's legs.

If she was successful at this, she rolled back up to her feet and just sprint ran for what sounded like the door was closing at. They wanted to block her in?

Then they really should try to just tackle her.

Though that may end with someone getting a boot in the face or a fist.

As large and slow of mind the large man seemed, it wasn't that he had little in the area of reaction speed. He 'quickly' lowers a large hand towards her as she tries to slide past him and gets almost what would seem like a deathgrip on one of her arms. He just barely had been able to reach her though, so that grip is on the upper part of her arm. Almost. She'd /almost/ gotten through. "You got him, Alviv!" One of the fez wearing Maganac men claim, but the keep blocking the hallway. Just in case she'd get away.

Quatre has by now gotten up again, knowing that the both men she'd knocked out were still breathing and okay, and is wandering towards her. Alviv, the big man, is now reaching with his other hand to try and put his other large hand onto her left ear, as a warning not to try and get away. "Please, miss Remille. Can you please stop it?" Quatre asks in a worried manner. "Really now. We're really not going to keep you holed up in the medical bay. Is my humble abode /really/ that terrible to you?" He inquires. He sounded hurt that she'd done all of this this. And that's one of those emotions that kind of... travel through his empathic NewType 'ability'.

Remille gave in as the large man got ahold of her. Though she could /try/ and use his size against him, she realized that by now that door was probably closed or will be closed by the time she gets freed.

First Attempt.. Failure..

The female pilot then tried to break the man's hold, mostly in annoyance then anything as she sneered at him. Those sapphire eyes then snapped around to Quatre as if trying to pierce his heart with a cold stare. If looks could kill, this be one of them.

"You humble adobe is a joke." She says with her calm nature a bit cracked. "Stop the pleasantries and the cover over. Get to the reasons you captured me and be done with it. Though I warn you I hold no information you could gain as I am just a hired gun. I only gain orders and I do not question them."

She then inhales deeply before fixing her glasses. "If anything your full hearted kindness about sickens me to the core. You think this is a game? Then you require a large wake up call." She then stares at him, her emotions once again becoming calm and hardened. "You are holding me against my will. I am your prisoner, at least you can start treating me like one and stop trying to 'steal' my trust before you backstab it." She hmphs, "Save you far more time, honestly."

A few of the men watch the girl, and listen to her entire rant... and... start laughing? That's right, they started laughing. "I'm your prisoner, at least you can start treating me like one." One of them repeats. "Stop trying to steal my trust before you backstab it." Jokes another. Apparently, this was the biggest joke in the world. "Now now, you guys." Quatre moves his hands in a way to get them to tone it down. "She doesn't know, or understand. You can't fault her to think like that."

The men do calm down a bit. How did people this big, this rowdy looking, listen to a small blonde /squirt/ like this? Was he maybe some kind of super soldier in secret? Or an assassin? "You are right, you are our prisoner. But I really can't bring myself to toss you into a cell. And if I handcuff you, how are you going to eat? Besides, if I really wanted information from you, surely... couldn't I do worse?" He just shakes his head. "No no. Come on, Vadiv. Let her go." He nudges his head towards the big man. "Mwwwuuu, okay." He steps back, keeping the hallway blocked still, and keeps his eyes on her.

"But you are right in one way. I am trying to get your trust. Not through theft, but simply by getting to know eachother." He chuckles. "Besides. Currently, I don't think you have any orders." He waves one of the four men over to come and check up on the two she'd knocked out, and himself then approaches the black haired woman. "Anything else you want to know? Or maybe something you want me to explain further?"

Remille fixes her jacket, before placing her hands into her pockets. She just stares as they start laughing. They think that was a joke? What hole did they crawl out from, she wonders. She then closes her eyes for a moment as she just listens to Quatre speak; Also scratching off the first attempt. She only had seventy two hours..

Seventy two hours to correct her name..

Her status..

And to keep these idiots from meeting the war machine of her 'father'.

..though why the hell should she care? Remille then tsked before she opened her eyes. "Why did you capture me then? You could have just given me back to my drop-ship and let me return home back on Mars."

"Hrrm." Quatre puts a finger on his cheek. Pondering this question. "To get to understand you. I guess. That is why I captured you. And, though it may seem foolish to you, to perhaps change your mind about your allegiances." He clearly doesn't mean 'work for me'. The tone of his voice implied something else. "That is..." He pauses for a moment. How to best explain this? He couldn't really. How do you tell a person you want to change their mind about war - about working for an organization that gets paid for murder - without sounding like an absolute lunatic? Even he knew that he'd simply discredit himself in such a case.

"Well... I guess I am not quite sure how to explain myself." He raises a hand up to the back of his neck and rubs it, looking a bit embarassed. "I guess what I mean is... want to join us for dinner?" The men standing at the end of the hallway make a sound of disbelief. "But master Quatre!" They complain. "Now now." Rashid is suddenly standing behind them. When did /he/ get back on board!? "Trust in master Quatre like you've done before. His path in life may seem strange, but it has changed all of our lives. You know that." The fez wearing Maganac folk nods sagely at the bearded man.

Remille crosses her arms over her chest and just stares at Quatre as he talks. She almost rolls her eyes in disbelief to all this. "My allegiance will forever will remain by my 'father' and to that at which I am hired under. I work under the contract, for the contract, and till that contract is nullified or comes to an end, I will forever work by it." She then drops her arms back down before shaking her head.

"I am a business woman who takes my work very seriously, Mr. Winner." She then points at him, "And you are getting in the way of my contract duty."

She then places her hands back into her pocket, "... and I rather eat with a bunch of extinct animals before eating with you. You probably poison my food or introduce a toxin into it to make me actually speak openly."

"If we wanted to do that, wouldn't we just have done that while you were out cold? Or have tied you up?" Quatre asks her, trying to poke a hole in her logic. He shakes his head. "And there's no need to be so rude about it. Come on. Let's get out of this freighter." He nudges his head along, and the Maganac folk get out of the way. Though Vadiv remains close, and will be following them closely.

"Follow me, if you would be so kind?" He reinforces his previous words and heads along. The door can be heard opening again in the distance.

"So, tell me, do you really work for your father? Since you put such emphasis to it, it sounded a bit odd." Quatre comments, putting his hands behind his back and patiently pacing. If she wouldn't walk along, she'd probably get a nudge from Vadiv to get her going. "As for working under a contract. As much as I can understand and appreciate one honoring such a thing. Are you really okay with a contract drenched in so much blood?"

Remille follows, she doesn't question. But she stays very quiet. Her eyes on him constantly and though if she had laser eye beams, she doesn't; but she wishes she did. Her eyes then drift around for a moment, taking in what information she can about her surroundings. Trying to see if there was anyway she could maybe snatch something real quick as a weapon. Maybe at this dinner she can pocket something. Maybe.

"He is my father, he is my employer, and he is my general." She explains though she doesn't give out to much information. She was also trying to control her short rung patience right now. "I was contracted to the Divine Crusaders, I do want what they want of me, so long as it does not harm the main organization I work under." She explains as her eyes drift back on him. "I do not question who lives or dies, I do not question the orders unless they conflict my main employers instructions or could endanger my home." She then raises an eye brow.

"You seem to keep missing the fact I am a soldier. To kill is part of my duty. The blood is something that can be washed away and those who died by my hands or by anyone elses knew what they were getting into when they took part of the war."

"So you are saying that no innocent life has ever fallen to your hands?" Quatre doesn't sound convinced, calmly pacing through the hallways. Constantly, there are Maganac folk around, watching her every move, even as the finally walk down the ramp into the large complex filled with Mobile Suits. Her own unit, the Armored Core, is slowly being moved to what seems to the a repair bay of sorts. Are they really going to try to repair it after all? Or were they simply going to research it?

"And no, I didn't forget you are a soldier. I am not saying that you shouldn't or cannot kill. I am not enough of a fool to believe there can be a war without bloodshed. But... I am somewhat confused." He turns his head for a moment to look at her. "I do not believe you are truly a person who never questions their orders, at least within their mind. Are you truly okay with killing who-ever you get paid to kill?" After all, the Divine Crusaders would sometimes create missions to simply eradicate innocent villages, to raise some money through its destruction, or by pulling hostage situations.

"I don't believe it." Quatre repeats, wandering along a paved path towards what looks like a larger complex further inside from the hangar. There are countless of people running around left and right, getting things done. And there don't seem to be any cameras. Or if there are some, they are extremely well hidden. "Though I guess there is something I do not understand. And that is the belief that someone's death can be so little that they can just be... washed away."

Remille follows along. She continues to soak in all information. If she was going to escape before the timer hit -end-, she needed to find all means to do so. Maybe-- just maybe spending a day to play this little game could gain her, no.. No.. she'd run out of time and she be back at square one.

Her dark hair soaked in the light, or it almost seem to like black satin, her sapphire eyes glanced over to Quatre as he started 'I don't believe it'. She raised a brow gently but remained quiet. This young man before her must be a pacifist. Which means he probably couldn't fight to save his life and that is why he needs his boyish charm along with all the guards. Is this what her father would call a dog-- or was he a space cadet?

Such strange terms anyhow..

Her movements were calm, collected. She walked with a near military step. Perfect heel to toe without a miss, if they turned, she nearly turned on her heel. Her shoulders were always straight as they walked and her head held high. She showed no sign of fear or concern, expect for maybe those few hints of that ticking time.

She then speaks up gently, her voice staying calm. "You are pacifist," she starts out, "I do not expect you would understand the means of tactical warfare or even the proper means of combat. The fact you are still alive is highly impressive, but with so many men, I guess that is not to hard to believe." She then narrows her eyes. "You seem to also misunderstand. I do question, but only when they come in conflict with my higher orders. Those orders are for me to know, not you, and the name of he who gives them will also never come out of my lips. Being heard the name of father, is good enough and perhaps all you should need to know."

"As I said before, I didn't bring you to question you." Quatre reinforces this fact. "No need to keep telling me that things are not for me to know. If you want to share something, you can share it if you like." He shrugs. "Though it does help me understand you better." He keeps on walking towards the complex further in the back. It's quite the long a walk. Easily half a kilometer, if not more. Of course, for a soldier, that isn't a lot.

"And do you really I am a pacifist, when I have all of this, and a Gundam?" He points at the Maganacs on the walls, beamrifles being moved around on trailers, and magazines of ammo being replentished. "I may have a wish for peace, and may not wish for people to die. But I am not foolish enough to believe that this world will change without conflict. I guess I am simply... hopeful. Hopeful that one day, humanity will come to an understanding of sorts. I probably will not see it in my lifetime. But I must try." He sounded a bit conflicted. Between happiness and sad, for all kinds of different reasons.

Rashid remains behind to shore up security a bit more, and one of the Maganac troops opens the freighter and begins moving the Sandrock Gundam off to the repair bay as well. "I understand tactical warfare. I understand combat. Perhaps better than you, though you would never believe me if I would come out and made such a claim. I however, also think that the current way of war claims too many lives." He shakes his head a bit more. "Also know. One doesn't always have to follow one's parentage. Our elders are not always right." What is he trying to prove with that statement? Or is that simply a regret he has of his own childhood? "May I ask. Were you perhaps trained from the get-go to be a soldier? Did you never wish to be... something else? To have an easier life?"

Remille takes note of the weapons on the wall, and everything. However it was pointless to take those because well, it was to easy and they go notice they were missing. Her luck they probably also had a security lock on them. She then corrects her glasses slightly as she continues to listen to Quatre. She then places her own hands behind her back and then suddenly matches pace with him; Stepping every step he takes exactly. Perhaps this was the first sign of trust?

Or perhaps she just wanted to get in a better ear shot of conversation then tagging along behind.

"A man can have weapons and a man can have a machine, but depending on how that man uses those resources shows what type of man he is." She explains calmly. "You hate war, so you use your resources to stop it. You, yes, hope for great peace, but peace will never come by the hands of man. Not so long as there is voice of freedom to ring in the ears of the people, and even though freedom is an illusion, we all will fight for it to the bitter end."

She does even look at him as she speaks. Her sapphire blue eyes looking directly as the light at times reflects in the glass material of the glasses she wears to correct her vision for objects up close. "In the end, we are all pieces on the chess board, those with the great power move us across that board to where they see us fit. We do not have a say, we just do and we are then rewarded for our deeds by the sense of that false freedom. Soon as we buckle and try to deny our place, we then lose that sense of freedom and find ourselves in the truth behind bars."

She then looks over to Quatre once more, her features continue to stay stern. "You want to know about me, very well. I was an orphan, along with my twin brother. We were saved by a man, a very brilliant man. He lived for his dreams, he lived for his people and still to this day does. He trained my brother and I, he trained us to who we are now. Trained soldiers, trained officers of a greater force then the Divine Crusaders could even understand, nor could you ever understand. We are the agents of death and we are the symbol of strength. It is in his plan we follow and we do as he wishes. I do not know what his plan is, I do not ask of it, because it goes beyond even my knowledge."

She then stares directly at him, almost stopping, "...and that is why you must let me go. He will not be happy that his pawn has been removed from the board and he will come for me. If that means he has to switch the pieces to represent your group, he will. You will be the king, Mr. Winner, and I think you know the term 'check mate' don't you?"

Quatre patiently listens to the woman, who speaks words he knows are truth. But it were her words why he'd stepped away from his father as well. "Must a person with power truly always want to hold the pieces? Can there not simply be freedom for everyone?" He asks questions that he is clearly not expecting an answer to. He knows they sound naive, yet somewhere in the bottom of his heart know they are 'right'.

"But to know you have been trained from the get-go would explain a few things. Though I am afraid your training won't help you much here. Or rather... you might escape, but just relax and think of yourself as a guest right now." He smiled as she came to walk right next to him, looking right at her as she stared at him, and paused his step as she almost stopped moving. "Is your organization really that incredibly? I mean, true. I probably could not even stand up against some of the Divine Crusaders' elite, even with this many of my trusted troops. But really... your 'father' must be a very scary man. Or would it be your brother, trying to retrieve you?" Though for some reason, he doubted that it was because they were family.

"Though I must say..." He begins to walk again. "To think of yourself as a mere pawn. Isn't it that kind of thinking that causes exactly what is going on right now? If every soldier believes themselves to be a pawn, they are controlled by those in power. Yet, the pawns in truth are their power. If all the pawns rose up against their king, they would fell him easily. Which probably means that pawns want to be... pawns? Or do they just not know better?" He lets the question linger in the air.

"I do not think of my men as pawns. They know they are free to go. In fact, they follow me of their own will. Many of them even have family. Like Samuel." He points at a random technician they walk past. "He has a wife, Marie, and two lovely daughters." He smiles and waves at the man, who of course smiles back. "I know all of my men by name, and their families. For they are family to me. If one of them got captured, I'd probably too, try to retrieve them. But of course, me being me, I'd try simple diplomacy first." He truly doesn't seem to 'fear' what she is threatening him with.

The female pilot just remains silent as she follows along. Finding that her words of warning are falling on deaf ears. How could she make him understand that all this could be avoided if he lets her go? Does he really wish to challenge fate and see the power himself?

Maybe she is being held over for money or maybe they are studing her Armored Core, which wouldn't make Zio Matrix very happy.

She inhales deeply before she speaks up once more, still keeping her calm, collective self. "We are all pawns, even we do not realize we are. Someone is pulling our strings at all times, even the kings own strings are being pulled by some motive, so he too becomes a pawn for the moment of time." She then raises a brow slightly in thought before she places the side of her index finger to her lips in thought.

"As for the power of our organization, one could say it is a well oiled machine. We have a system. That system works. Very few things go wrong within us and all those who work for us are hand-picked and chosen carefully. Not anyone joins us, but those who have been chosen to join us. We work in the darkness and the shadows. That is the way we like to keep things." She hrms softly, "We work for the Divine Crusaders and for anyone else we see fit. Because we tend to operate on Mars, divine crusaders suits our best needs." She doesn't get into the fact that they may also work for other factions on the side as well.

"As for my father and my brother powerful men? They can be. They can also be gentle as well. We are also a family, being as an organization. The difference it would seem between us and you, is that we desire to burn the bridges and build them as we see fit. The strong survive, the fit rule, and the weak are replaced by a much stronger force."

"Why must the weak be killed though?" Quatre asks. "Are lives really of that little importance?" He just shakes his head and continues on until they finally arrive in front of a big door. The door opens... revealing what looks like a mess hall with people... celebrating! "Haaa! Master Quatre is home!" They... are throwing a party. Quatre is dumb-founded. This probably was going to shock his prisoner, maybe even get her to try to run away again. What to do, what to do?

All he could do is do what was natural and laugh in response. "You guuuuys." He calls out, shaking his head. Before him, there were rows of tables, filled with food that would normally be concidered 'fancy' for a soldier. He turns his head towards Remille. "I do appologize. But it seems they insist on throwing these kind of parties sometimes, when I visit. I hadn't visited the New York base in a long time. So..." He just points at them. "Guess they missed me."

Rashid walks up besides Quatre and belately responds to what is going on inside. He puts his index finger and thumb on his nosebridge and pinches it a bit. He groans. "You know they won't take no for an answer." The bearded arab then proceeds to mutter. "Miss fortner. Will you by any chance at least sit at the table with me? No need to eat if you think it contains poison." He then continues to walk along down the middle of the room. Rashid wanders up to behind her. "There is a room prepared for you on the left side, if you rather not participate. But know that you will be watched either way. And if you decide to sit, don't bother to pick up any silverwear for weapons. We value master Quatre's life very much."

Remille Fortner raises an eyebrow at the party. She has seen parties like these before. Though typically her brother causes them... and he is drunk off his kilter. "Hm." Though beyond the eyebrow raise she doesn't seem very bothered by it. She for the most part, just stays quiet. Even as she is told she has a room, not to try anything 'funny', and they value..

Oh really?

Then perhaps she /should/ have held him hostage. Mistake learned, will have to /amend/ for that later.

"Your people have a great love for you, Mr. Winner." She says easily actually joining them, though she does decide to not eat; Even if she was actually hungry. Who knows, maybe she will cave in and take a bite or two of something.

The female pilots sit in the chair almost like some you expect to see at a royal table or someone who had sit in many high class places. Her eyes close for only a moment in thought before they open. "I do commend you, Mr. Winner for continue to try and change my mind. However we can continue to go down this conversation and I am afraid we will continue to run in a circle. You believe you are right as I believe I am right. We both can continue this dance but you will find I am not easily swayed." She then glances away for a brief moment.

Her eyes looks over a fork, before she moves it gently, examining it carefully. She closes her eyes once more, drifting in her own thoughts; whispering softly, "Three days come, and the nightmare runs; hooves of black, eyes of red, and steel along its back. Three days come, as the clock stricks twelve, and the eyes of the beast will be upon you; upon the land and upon the shore. Then as the clock strikes once more, the land will become ash, for which everything may be reborn."

"A warning for what is to come, if I were not to let you go?" Quatre eats slowly, unlike some of those present. He too, seems like a person who's used to a rather high standards in food. Eating with the proper hand, using a napkin, all of that. Rashid stands behind him like a watchdog, continuesly looking at Remille. Where-as Quatre somehow is assured that no harm will come to him, his arab friend seems to know better.

"Perhaps so." Quatre claims. "And I will let you go before the three days are over. Do not worry. You seem quite set on making sure none of my men die at the hands of your father and his men." Is he that dense? Or did he sense something inside of Remille she had not even sensed? "But until then. I will simply let you enjoy a different kind of life." Perhaps, just perhaps, at least a tiny little crack would be made in that heart of ice. He knew that there was no way to force this woman to change her way. But if he could at least give her a taste of how things could be done differently.

"Though I do still wonder how they'd find you. After all, we were not followed, and we sensed no radio signals coming from your Armored Core anymore." He looks up at her for a moment, smiles, then down at his food to take a bite of the pork he'd put on his plate. "But no matter. You are right, an exchange of saying who is right, and who is wrong, will get us nowhere. But at least I understand you a bit better now. Our ideals may clash. Or at least, your father's ideals may clash with mine. That doesn't mean we must be enemies."

He pauses for a moment, then points at her. "Tell me, if I threw a lot of money at it, and asked your 'father' to do a mission for me, whilst keeping casualties minimal. Aside from the fact that he'd likely laugh in my face - would he accept it?"

Remille sits there calmly, mostly focusing her eyes really on nothing. Perhaps letting her own mind just wondering, before she at last looks over to him, "I do not concern for your men, but any decent leader would not wish to see his men harmed. If you believed my words, then were a decent man, though many have believed such cries false. Perhaps you are wise enough to see this to not be true. However I do not hold my hopes high and we will see if you do indeed let me go or tempt the hand of fate to spin her wheel."

Remille then shook her head softly. "The group I work for also has ways of finding out information. If we can not find it, we know people who can. As I stated, we are well oiled machine." She then goes to at last stand up, though her motions are slow as to prove she is not going to try anything quick footed like before. Her motions are also very fluid, though she does stare down Quatre's body guard as if daring the man to try something.

"That would depend on what it is, how you want it done, and the price you are willing to pay for it. My faher does not work for cheap and he has been around for many years. Far longer then many men alive still fighting. If you want him to do work for you, then you really need to know what it is you want him to do-- and he never disappoints."

She then looks in the direction of where her room was, almost raising a brow gently. "..now if you excuse me.." and then she starts to make her way in that direction.

She will try and escape again most like, when she can come up with a better plan. Maybe that room has some of ventilation she can use?