The prison liner comes in time to the BPA Newgate. There weren't further problems during the travel but the people into that ship was troubled the same, especially a particular section of that vessel, the prisons.
"Alright! Let it enter, all clear. Proceed to the pier 2."
The BPA Newgate's doors open, the prison liner enters into the hangar slowly, there was still tension in the air, then the ship turns off, be surrounded by BAF soldiers, the doors open and the people forced to get off from that vessel. There wasn't escape possibility with that garrison.
"Come on! The trip is over! Get off!"
They get off slowly, pushed by soldiers into the ship and watched by soldiers into hangars, they were prisoners. Criminals, traitors, enemies of the states, now finally busted and close to pay for what they have done. Some were afraid, some others were deign to keep the head up.
"Divide them in groups! Based on the graveness of the crime!"
The leader said! They must obey. The soldiers begin to push, escort and make gestures to move that people's group. They came out various groups, distinguished by how they deserved this fate. At last they reach another room, also that full of soldiers. There are particularly 2 men, one had a list, another a speaker.
"Now you will be called for name and you will follow the guard that will escort you to your cell! Jack Smith, of Gaia!"
A man of one group starts to walk, following his guard.
"William Garrison, of Crete!"
Another man starts to walk, following his guard.
"Ambre Lachance, of Nevers"
A woman starts to walk, following her guard. This last escort the prisoner in another room. "Cell #472". The guard push the woman into that room.
"Have a nice stay, miss!"
The guard leaves the cell and close the room, going to take another prisoner.
A day pass, without any contacts with the outside, just a decent dinner, bread and water... plus a mixed salad.
The door opens, it was the same guard, with the same smile on the face
"It's the interrogation time, lady! Follow me! And no jokes!"
She follows the guard, going to another room, empty, only a table and 2 chairs. This time with a more polite treatment. Now in that room there's only she.
Another man enter in that room, it doesn't a guard, but a officer. He close the door from where he entered and looks the woman.
"Please, take a seat"
They sit down. The officers continues to look the woman, like that he's waiting an answer, after a few moment he starts to speak, putting a recorder on the table without start it.
"I admit it... they aren't good with prisoners, especially with Gallic prisoners! I swear, if I would be the leader of this place I would change various treatment rules, at last... we are all humans right?"
He start the recorder
"Interrogation #01, 14/11/823 A.S. 18:00 Sirian time, subject: Ambre Lachance, captured Gallic Soldier.
My name is Sid Fire, lieutenant commander of the Norfolk fleet. You will answer to every question that I will ask you."
A small pause that seemed an eternity
"First question. You were caught by one of my lieutenants, togheter a small patrol group on Cambridge. Why were you alone? What was your mission?"
The woman sat silent. She was clearly worn out from the recent experiences, her messed long hair and baggy eyes only encouraging the notion.
The commander's voice worked like nails on a chalkboard, ruining the reflective silence and aggrevating Lachance.
"I'm not going to answer your questions, Sirian! Return me to Leeds unharmed, and maybe the Armee will be more forgiving! You don't want to suffer the same fate as that commander I've shot down, do you?"the woman spoke in a distinct Gallic accent.
A glint of exhaustion was hidden in her voice that she was desperately trying to hide, as to not give an impression that she will be easy to interrogate.
"Listen me carefully" This time his voice was more serious than before "You won't exit from this prison until we will gain what we want! If you're worrying about the life of a man, don't consider the mine!" Sid wanted to calm her and talking more politely but he seemed taken by an aggressive desire to get informations.
"You better collaborate, or you will return to Leeds nomore!"
"You Sirian dogs... There's nothing that I will do to betray my friends and the Roi." the pilot spoke in a very condescending manner.
"Do you honestly believe that the Armee won't be going to stage an assault to rescue their pilots? All I need to do is wait, Bretonian. Unless you release me, then they might be more lenient. It all depends on you, dog."
She remained in her seat, glancing around the room on occasion with the intent of causing mischief or trying to stage an escape.
"You can bark all you want, this will only move forward if you won't overstay the chance to earn yourself the Roi's mercy, monsieur."
"Sooner or Later you will spit it out, miss" he remains impassable "And meanwhille your Gallic forces will be destroyed in Leeds, only for a single pilot! Think carefully! You're losting time here! Ah, and it's useless that you're seeing around. This is a maximum security prison! And anyways they're thinking that you are dead since you are here! They won't go for you!
"Time is all that I need, Bretonian. I'm not going to give you -any- information unless I see a ship out of here being prepared. Perhaps then I'll be more interested in actually giving you something in exchange." the Gallic pilot continued to push her demands.
She didn't believe the Sirians would do anything to her, gambling on the idea.
"I'm sorry but you aren't in the position to do requests! I could, maybe I wish it, but you can't! Do you really think to rot in this prison? Remember, they aren't good with prisoners especially for yours! I tell it for you good!" He takes a pause, then he restarts
"It seems you don't know how it works here! You better start to learn it, and soon!"
A moment of silence ensued. It was true that the stay here has been awful at best. Passing guards frequently taunted the woman, spat in her cell as they passed by and tried to degrade her with every opportunity they could. It only reinforced the idea that all Sirians are as barbaric and cruel. The first days of stay Ambre was overflowing with emotions, unable to control herself from self-loathing and ended up sobbing on occasion, something that the guards got a kick out of.
"What I've learned already is that you dogs deserve what I.. -we- have done to you. I know you'll just leave me here to rot, you people never hold your word and rely on tricks. Until I actually see what I asked for, I'm staying silent, Bretonian. Until I can be assured that I will be leaving soon..."
She continued her dismissive attitude, but was visibly uncomfortable from the idea of staying any longer.
Sid takes another pause, always with the same face, impassable.
"It seems that you didn't digest the dinner, anyways soon you'll learn what I've just told you! Interrogation suspended" He turn off the recorder, he stands up walking to the exit, guarded by 2 soldiers, but first he stops
"Why are you lonely? Why you prefer to stay isolated by the whole human community? We aren't all so! Look for learn it too." He makes a gesture to the guard behind Ambre
"Escort her in her prison"
Another day passed.
The breakfast was a brick of milk, as lunch another mixed salad with bread and water. Same situation, "Interrogation time", same guard. Sid didn't want to give up.
This time that room was occupied by another interrogation and the woman had to wait, meanwhile the guards wanted to take advantage to banter that poor woman that believed to be courageous to act in that way to a lieutenant commander. When the interrogation finished Sid appears understanding what's happening
"ENOUGH! GOD DAMNT! You had to escort the prisoner! Not to taunt her! I don't matter if she's Gallic! She's a human being!"
He escorts personally the prisoner to the interrogation room, re-takes the recorder and sits down
"Damned guards!"
He calms, then he restarts...
"See how this place is? Before you talk, before you will exit from that hell! So do I."
Lieutenant Lowden Graves, upon being called in, emerges from the dark chamber behind the door. The white light of the tired neon lamp on the ceiling touched his face with a certain cold and sterility. Within the (somewhat cramped) confinement of his scull, however, there was no cold at all, let alone sterility. Ambre was an amber. The colour of fire, the smoothness of extra virgin olive oil, and captivating whatever had happened to her in the past within the battered glean of her eyes. Her uniform was torn and burned in some places, by her own heat, Graves imagined. Her legs, accentuated by the military boots and the tight trousers with holes, were were very smooth witnesses to the daily exercise she had to have as a gravity free pilot, but they also suggested a lack of rations. Her bottom strongly disagreed. The belt that was a standard part of her uniform emphasized the contrast between her waist, and her hips and chest. In Graves' imagination, it hid two tight strips of abdominals that that would uncontrollably erupt into a shivering contraction, following an overpowering explosion of colours in the nerves down there. But his eyes were pulled up -- not against his will. A tear in the upper left part of her uniform revealed the tender goosebumps that had erected from her soft skin due to the insufficient heating. The tear itself was, on the contrary, the strongest heating Graves knew of. Ambre's two medium whites, proportioned in perfect accord with her satiated bottom, were irradiating his mind. They weren't the largest stars in Sirius, but they were nearly bursting, alike to a pair of large, ripe tomatoes. He would thrust his body into her like the Derby into the Villeneuve, force her down, knead them, crush them with his overwhelming urge, subdue her free will and her right of dignity by force, as her kind wants to do with his home planet. Graves, an underdeveloped former factory worker from Leeds, knew how much out of her league he was, but she was now a prisoner.
Outside, all of this showed as a somewhat kinky smile, which also showed his rotten teeth, and as a focused flame in his eyes. His imaginations were invisible, but his intentions, if he was left with Ambre, alone in the interrogation chamber, were very clear.
"Oi, guv!", he saluted, somewhat bent forward, to hide what he was ashamed of from Sid.
He turned towards Ambre, this time postured correctly and straightly, and flashed another kinky smile: "Miss." "Called me to replace you, guv?" He still held the kinky smile.
![[Image: 396AUfe.png]](https://i.imgur.com/396AUfe.png)