The shuttle broke through the atmosphere, the hull howling as it was stressed by atmospheric re-entry. As the ship eventually reached a safe altitude and leveled itself, the beautiful sights of the planet of Cambridge came to view. In-between the pockets of clouds, everything was dominated by the colour green: lush forests, farmland, serene meadows. It was reminiscent of landscapes in Gallia, be that planet Orleans or parts of New Paris.
It didn't take long for the ship to start decreasing speed, preparing to land on one of the few landing pads available at the location. The shuttle's engines roared as they maneuvered the ship onto the pad and slowly descended, ending with a loud clunk as the landing gears contacted with the metal surface. The engines stopped, slowly winding down into complete, unnatural silence.
The silence didn't help Ambre's anxiety as she wondered why the ESRD has decided to move her to a Bretonian planet, knowing full well that if this was the Kingdom of Gallia and she were in this situation, the guillotine was the only fate awaiting her. She had already gotten used to the life she had to live in Liberty for the past year, even if it did cost her willpower and hope. She was one of the very few that were actually of Gallic origin, which did end up causing trouble over the many months she spent there. While terrible, it was still heaven compared to experiences in Bretonia, and this is where the root of her anxiety resided.
Ambre's train of thought was interrupted as the sliding metal doors to the cell opened. One crewman, proudly wearing that despicable Bretonian Armed Forces insignia on his chest, entered the cell. Another one stood by the door, at ease with a rifle, but nonetheless keeping watch.
"Welcome to Cambridge lass, we hope you'll enjoy your stay." the crewman spoke with a grin, in a distinctly sarcastic Bretonian accent.
Usually, she would have retorted with an insult, a rude gesture or a wise remark, but somehow he reminded her of Graves. A chill went down her spine as he came closer to move her into the facility.
Victor stood at the bottom of the personnel ramp dressed in the black uniform of the Intelligence Service and a long overcoat that gently fluttered in the breeze, waiting for his new arrival. His pipe was producing a decent amount of smoke and it helped ease his tensions about this particular individual, one whom he'd encountered in space before. She was a particularly good pilot, and particularly ruthless.
Two guardsmen walked down the ramp with a very unhappy looking Ambre. She good to go sir one of the guardsmen said, handing the keys over to Victor before stepping back. Victor said nothing as he put the keys in his pocket and gave her his new charge a cold look. Welcome to Bretonia my lady. I am Leftenant Victor Steiner and you'll be in my care for today. I trust the flight was untroubled? he asked with a neutral yet polite tone, dismissing the guards in the process.
Ambre observed the guards moving away for a moment, before turning her attention to the man in front of her. Steiner. She felt a case of déjà vu hearing his name and voice, but couldn't remember why. His outfit and manner clearly showed he was in a different hierarchy, and his presence was foreboding to Ambre.
"I would say it's a pleasure, I've only had fond memories on my campaign in Bretonia." she spoke without her condescending sneer. The past year's experiences taught her much; Unnecessary provoking higher-ups usually ended with punishment, but she couldn't resist completely to remind him of her deeds. It helped to not show weakness, even though she was internally trembling from the situation. Maybe this time would be different.
"Would you tell me why am I here, of all places?" she asked, observing the complex.
You are here to have a little talk with us. Much like you did with the Libertonians only...in a more polite capacity. Come, let us take a walk, I imagine it has been sometime since you were allowed outside. With that he linked his arm with hers and began leading her towards a heavily forested part of the facility. So he began, still puffing away on his pipe and deciding he should at least attempt to begin asking questions Tell me a little about yourself, How long have you been in the GRN?
She looked at the man leading her into the forest, visibly uncomfortable with the situation. It took a moment for her to start speaking.
"I've signed up with the Royal Navy just after the Tau conflict with Kusari. I was serving as a pilot for at least three years, until I've met with one of those aliens that crippled my ship. I'm sure you were briefed as to what happened after that." She let her head down as an onslaught of memories began pouring.
"And now I'm here, serving as a trophy to Libertonians and Bretonians." she muttered.
You are no trophy my lady, he said with a brief smile Certainly not to the Libertonians and neither to us. No my dear, you are a prisoner, and while you might not see a great deal of difference, I assure you there is. They reached a small clearing, great oaks and elm trees parted for a small wooden seat for two that lay under a great Kauri tree. They both sat down and Victor took his arm away. This seems like a nice place for a talk. He said taking the keys to her cuffs and unlocking them, allowing the chains to fall to the ground. Now. Tell me about your life prior to the Royal Navy. What did you do? Was it straight out of school and into the academy? Or did you do something else prior?
She rubbed her hands where the cuffs were, trying to get rid of the irritation. Looking around, the location seemed surreal. Having seen only cement, tight quarters and metal everywhere for the past year, it felt strange being thrown back into nature with vivid colours and the sounds of wildlife.
"I lived on Nevers, with the rest of my family. It had a booming tourism industry, and that's where I worked after graduating." she began. "There were guests from all corners of Gallia, those on vacation or attending events. I've had the pleasure of meeting a higher-ranking officer during my work who encouraged me to join the Navy with his stories of valour and achievement."
She stopped abruptly. "Why would you, a Bretonian, be interested in this at all?"
He smiled at the question Have you ever looked at another civilization and wondered how they came to be? Have you ever wondered at their History and their culture? How it impacts their mindsets and their social outlook? I have, and I look at Gallia and I see a great many questions. Questions that have not been answered, I have not spoken to many of your people before, and I find my curiosity overriding my desire to hurt you. Odd, for someone from the Intelligence circle to say that, there's the truth of it. He took a long draw on his pipe, exhaling before continuing So, with that in mind, what are your thoughts on the war?
"You're strange, at least for a Bretonian." she scoffed at the man.
"The Roi wanted war, and so did Gallia itself. I didn't think much of the reasons behind it, but it was clear that we are enemies from the beginning. Both from history, and the fact that you support terrorist organisations that try to undermine peace in the Kingdom itself, like the Outcasts, Council and its branch-offs." she stops for a bit, contemplating. "It's funny. I saw the war as a way to find recognition and protect the Kingdom, but now if people knew what happened, I'd be a laughing stock and an example of a coward. I should have just went down fighting."
An uncomfortable pause passed, her expression clearly showing upset. "How is the war progressing, anyway?"
He chuckled at her comment and again at her mentioning of recognition The war is going just like every war. More dead, more broken hearts. It's safe to say it's progressing badly, although I'm sure your side would have a very different opinion given that they have just begun the final invasion of New London. One way or another, the war will end in these next few months. He took yet another draw on his pipe before asking Do you regret not going down fighting?