damned_institute | Day 59: Meeting Room 1

Major Helen Blithe sat at the long table, her calloused fingers laced together as she waited beside the patient's covered dish. Although such food was typically reserved for higher-ranked individuals, it was only appropriate in light of what the chosen subjects -- no, what they all were going to do tonight. After all, it wasn't everyday that the general decided to pair "patients" with specific soldiers for a mission.

Maybe that was why she felt on edge.

Blithe wasn't naive. Some of the damn subjects had knowledge of that device. Last night's drug trial hadn't produced enough results to make it worth that kind of security breach. No doubt the general had narrowed down his list of suspects to people who actually knew about the thing. And now what? She'd been called to help assist in a project that, quite frankly, left a bad taste in her mouth. Not that she doubted General Aguilar's judgment, of course -- it's just she wanted to know whether he truly suspected her or not.

Narrowing her eyes, the red-haired woman glanced at her comrades. As distasteful as the whole thing was, she couldn't help but wonder whether one of them had betrayal on their mind. What she wouldn't give to know...

In the meantime, she didn't feel up for chatting with anyone, and she silently waited for her assigned subject to arrive.

[For Castiel.]

The final shift of the day had turned out to be a fascinating experience. Castiel hadn't expected to come across so many others who weren't human in one way or another, but after what he'd endured yesterday it was good to be reminded of it. There were others in his position, or at least in something like it. Thus far Gabriel was still the only other angel he'd come across, though he had to admit that was likely for the best.

He had one more person left to explain himself to, and that was Stefan. If his memories were to be trusted, the young man had been very confused by his new persona, which was understandable. Michael hadn't been anything like him.

So where had that come from?

Instead of being led back to the familiar patient block, however, the soldier escorting him suddenly moved toward the stairs instead. Castiel stopped in his tracks, feeling what had to be some sort of survival instinct kick in. This didn't seem right. "Where are we going?"

The soldier turned toward him. "Mr. Collins, you should feel honored. You've been specially chosen for a top-ranking assignment tonight."

More brainwashing, experiments, or those missions that he'd heard mentioned on the board, maybe? Fight or flight instincts should have led him away from the situation, but the gun in the soldier's hand gave him no choice but to follow. Castiel knew now how easily he could bleed out, how much damage those bullets could do.

There had to be a reason for why he had been picked out of all the other patients. It seemed that the institute had taken some sort of interest in him ever since he'd gone to the medical wing and taken those drugs. First the whole incident in the arena (which had mainly revolved around Gabriel, but Castiel had been involved), then being made to think he was someone else for a day, and now this.

It didn't take long to reach his destination, and upon arriving he found that there were three soldiers waiting there. He stiffened, glancing from the one leaning against the wall to the man and woman who were sitting down at a table. The table itself had a few covered plates on it.

The situation was almost impossible for him to read, and so Castiel stood there and waited for some sort of instruction. He hadn't been injected with anything or knocked out so far, which was surprising.

Having already read the reports for tonight, Blithe knew to expect two women and a man. Consequently, when the individual listed in their files as "Michael Collins" arrived, she immediately knew they were assigned together. It was a good thing, too, because she was getting tired of looking at Travis' poor attempts at smiling.

Turning to the subject, she gestured toward the seat in front of his plate. "Have a seat," Blithe instructed. "You're eating dinner in here this evening, so you may as well dig in before it gets cold."

Realizing that her words may not be enough, she added, "I'll explain a little more once you sit down." Hopefully he'd take her advice.

Up until now, Castiel had hardly been acknowledged by the staff, nurse or soldier. Aguilar had spoken to him directly, but those had been special circumstances. The point was that he suddenly felt out of place, being treated almost like an equal. He was clearly still the one who would be taking orders, but that happened to be a position he was comfortable with.

It was true that he'd left Heaven and therefore didn't answer to anyone's orders at this point, but that had still defined his existence for thousands of years. It wasn't difficult to fall back into the pattern.

Not that he planned to follow along with all of this willingly. That all depended on what was being asked of him. However, Castiel also realized that if he was difficult from the start that he might ruin whatever opportunity he might be offered here. For now, it was best to tread carefully.

So, after a brief pause, he nodded and took a seat. It seemed like the soldier was waiting for him to do something, and so he awkwardly lifted the cover off of the plate in front of him to reveal his meal. Unlike this morning and at lunchtime, the food in front of him was fresh as could be; more than that, it wasn't that sludge he'd been forcing down for the past few days.

His hunger reared its ugly head and Castiel grabbed for the fork set out for him. He hesitated for another second or two and then took a bite of the chicken. It was a sign of his cooperation, so hopefully the woman would explain now.

Judging by his rank, Blithe imagined that he at least appreciated the change in diet. Satisfied that he'd decided to eat a little, her hand slipped into her pocket, grasping onto the wristband resting there, but not quite revealing it yet.

"I'm Major Helen Blithe," she introduced herself after a moment. "As your escort probably told you before now, you've been selected to participate in an important mission tonight. We'll be paired together." So no funny business, was the implication. Thankfully, she had enough self-restraint to keep herself from actually saying that so early into their conversation.

"General Aguilar will soon be here to personally explain the details," Blithe added. She was sure she didn't need to explain the significance behind that. "But, as far as I understand the situation, we're expected to apprehend Martin Landel, as well as the rebel who calls himself Marc."

Not soon after Castiel started eating, two other patients showed themselves and were approached by the remaining two soldiers. Six in all, then, and chances were that they were being entrusted with the same task. It made sense, of course. If one of them failed, there would be two more in the reserves.

Being made to work in pairs with the soldiers themselves was also a strategic move. The patient body had already shown itself to be prone to rebellion (unsurprisingly so), so it would have been foolish to let them take on such an immense task with no supervision.

He would be seeing Aguilar again tonight, then. Castiel had a few choice words for the man, mainly that he had no business toying with angels like they were mere humans, and yet he already realized that his words would fall flat. These humans had managed to collar both him and Gabriel and use them for the purposes they were originally meant for: as fighters. When considered that way, it was really no surprise that he'd been brought here.

Being able to take out some of his wrath on Landel -- the man originally responsible for this, or at least for some of it -- wasn't exactly unappealing to Castiel. After a pause, he nodded and then took another bite of his food. It was a struggle to not scarf it down after going without a single meal in almost twenty-four hours.

He overheard a question being asked by one of the other patients, realized it was one worth asking, and directed it at his own so-called partner. Castiel already knew that this Major Helen Blithe was no Uriel, but that was neither here nor there. "Yes, she brings up a good point. Will at least some of our abilities be returned to us for this mission?" He wouldn't be nearly as useful without them.

Blithe considered the question for a moment. "Obviously I can't speak for the general, but I'd imagine so," she answered at length. That was the typical procedure for regular missions, and she at least knew this assignment was important enough to warrant extra abilities.

"Of course, don't think there won't be any restrictions," Blithe reminded him. They couldn't have anyone getting any ridiculous ideas about escape or sabotage, after all. The red-haired woman finally produced the wristband from her pocket, holding it up for the subject to see.

"You'll be required to wear this," she explained. "It's designed to track our movements. I'm supposed to go ahead and fasten this onto your arm before General Aguilar arrives."

It was a vague answer, but it wasn't a definite no. Castiel realized that being granted only some of his powers back for only a short amount of time was almost worse than getting nothing at all, and yet he still longed for the familiarity. So much of this situation was foreign to him, and while he had been handling it the best that he could, this was the first time in a while that he felt like he was in a comfortable position.

For most it would have been the opposite, but this was something he was confident he could do.

As the strange device was pulled out, his immediate reaction was still suspicion. This place had shown that it was willing to drug them, alter their mental states, and any number of other things. Allowing them to put something on him that might have debilitating effects was a bad idea no matter how he looked at it, and yet he knew this opportunity was an extremely rare one. Only three of them had been picked.

So, after a long moment of silent consideration, Castiel slowly extended his right arm forward.

She doubted that he liked having to wear a device, but at least he wordlessly agreed to cooperate. Good. Blithe didn't want to deal with any unexpected surprises tonight. Hopefully this was the start of a partnership that could grab them Marc and Landel's heads to present to General Aguilar. What better way to demonstrate her loyalty than to capture two of the most recent thorns in his side?

"Thank you," she said with a small nod. Then, reaching out, the soldier securely fastened it to his wrist. "As long as you cooperate, and don't try to use any of your abilities to sabotage the project, I'm sure you'll be rewarded for your trouble."

After all, the general often made a point to recognize subjects' efforts to do well.

Generally, Castiel did not wear anything beyond the clothes that his vessel manifested in. The gray shirt and pants that he had originally worn in this place and the uniform that he had now were equally foreign to him, but they were at least outfits. Accessories were completely new to him, and the feel and look of the wristband around his arm was strange.

Still, it apparently served a purpose, even if it wasn't one he particularly wanted to be a part of. He could understand needing to track them, and unlike angels, humans couldn't do that without the assistance of technology like this.

Once that was taken care of, he took a few more bites of his food for good measure and then let his hands fall into his lap. He didn't know how he felt about a reward, but he found that he didn't need to respond due to them being joined by another soldier. It wasn't Aguilar -- that much he knew for certain -- but...

Yes, he'd seen the man last night, even though he hadn't been himself. That was Major Harrington. He eyed the man closely, but it seemed like he was more concerned with another patient and her assigned soldier. That was acceptable to him, seeing how he didn't have much more to say to the man. Instead, he glanced to Major Blithe. "So now we wait?"

When Harrington finally showed up, Blithe couldn't help but arch a thin eyebrow at him. Given the importance of the mission, his actions struck her as unusual. Then again, General Aguilar had been relying on him a great deal during the recent investigation. Perhaps he'd had permission to arrive late.

Of course, for her, that was a rather generous assumption. She wasn't sure what she thought of the man. He could come across as a bit of a buffoon sometimes, but she also knew they wouldn't be sharing the same rank if he was completely incompetent. Given recent circumstances, Blithe felt suspicious of anyone who managed to draw attention to themselves -- including him.

Still, she did her best to school her expression into something more neutral. After all, she had a job to complete, and her position required professionalism at all times. For that reason, part of her was thankful for her assigned partner's question. The more she could focus on the matter at hand, the better she could prove her loyalty later.

"That's right," Blithe answered. "General Aguilar should arrive soon. He'll explain what we need to know for tonight."

This was a little on the depressing side. Major Travis had taken a seat at the table along with Blithe as they waited on their assigned patient. He hadn't expected this to be a party, but the silence was tense, as if they were all awaiting sentencing. Hell, maybe we are, he thought flippantly, catching Blithe's brief glance. He smiled at her, big and humorless, until her eyes continued on and so did his attention.

He cleared his throat, just to make sure he hadn't gone mute, and the sound stirred the air just the way he wanted it to.

Cartwright fingered the bracelet they had all been given, Blithe made eyes at the patient's meals, and Travis patted the rifle in his lap as the waiting dragged on (it had been on the table, but it seemed in bad form to let the kiddies think they had just walked into an execution). This wasn't how he thought he would be spending his evening, playing partner to a patient. Frankly, he didn't like it, but he wasnt going to question the General. He had been chosen for a reason and Travis certainly had this theories.

Still, he was a professional and Travis would do his job without question--well, out loud--whether it thrilled him or not.

Soma had spent her afternoon taking a nap in the Sun Room. It was highly unusual for her, but after the last two nights spent exploring the medical wing, a few extra hours of sleep seemed like paradise.

Now she followed her escort out of the Sun Room, expecting to be taken back to her room. But he shook his head and tapped her shoulder as she began to turn right with the rest of the patients, and she frowned in faint confusion.

"Not tonight," he said, gesturing instead to the stairs to the second floor. "You've been chosen for a special assignment."

Soma's frown deepened, but she didn't resist. What would be the point? She followed her escort up the stairs, her thoughts racing. Was it something she'd done? Some test she'd unknowingly passed? Was it the conversation she'd had with the soldier at lunch? What kind of mission--and how could they be sure she'd cooperate?

Rapunzel, she remembered suddenly. Rapunzel had been selected for one of these missions, too. Soma suddenly regretted not having the time to ask her for more details. They were headed through some more hallways now, and she took a moment to memorize her surroundings. She didn't come up here often--most of her Arts and Crafts assignments had been to map the outside of the institute. And that brought up another wave of thoughts. She'd been scheduled to meet Kairi and Sonia tonight. Would they know she'd been taken?

She hesitated a fraction of a second as her escort opened the door, then stepped through. There were two soldiers sitting in front of her, and a third leaning against a wall. Judging from the uniforms, another patient had already arrived. A group mission, then?

With a faint nod and something that was very nearly a smile, her escort departed. At a loss for anything else to do, Soma succumbed to instinct, clicking her heels together and standing silently at attention.

Travis righted his posture now that one of the patients had finally breached their silent bubble. Not long after another appeared. It was a woman, but judging from the file he had read previously and the fact that the patient and Cartwright seemed to gravitate toward each other rather quickly.

So, his was late. Wonderful. The man did his best not to look putout as he stared at Cartwright and Blithe briefly. Eventually, the last patient came in. He wasn't sure what to expect of the woman, this Maria Medvedeva. Yeah, he was going to try really hard to not pull out her name unless absolutely necessary. It wouldn't do to embarrass himself and thus embarrass them all in the process. But now, looking at her, looking at her strict posture... Well, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Standing up from the table, Travis raised his hand and motioned for her to come forward. Like the gentleman he truly wasn't, the man pulled out another chair for her to sit in if she wished.

"Since you'll be missing your usual dinner, we brought you something a bit more high-end for your troubles. If you would," he beckoned smoothly with a gesture toward her seat and her warm plate of teriyaki and tempura. "then we can begin."

One of the soldiers gestured to her, and Soma approached obediently. Despite the guns in the room, the officers didn't look openly hostile. That was a start. Besides, she had to admit she was too curious to put up a fight.

She supposed she was one of the few people in the institute who honestly didn't care about the pink gruel--the rations they got in space were only slightly more flavorful--but she couldn't deny that the food in front of her looked delicious. It was an unusual way to start a briefing, but she wasn't about to complain. She seated herself and picked up the knife and fork, still watching the soldier expectantly.

"I was told I'd been chosen for a mission," she said, cutting into the teriyaki in a show of compliance. Her mind was still racing with questions; hopefully this man could answer them before she had to ask.

Once Maria had taken her seat, Travis took his own. He noticed she was waiting for his lead and so he quickly corrected that.

"Please. Don't wait to eat on my account." He sure as hell wouldn't. And for a moment, the man watched her silently as he folded his hands together on the lacquered table top before he began to speak once more.

"Yes, you are correct. My name is Major Travis--" There seemed no reason to give his full name to a patient. This, he hoped very fervently, wouldn't be a repeat occurrence and so a last name would suffice unless he was told otherwise. "--and you and I will be a team together this night." He let that sink in before continuing. "As far as I know, we will be on the look out for Martin Landel and the man who calls himself Marc. Our orders are to apprehend them on sight." Which was such a shame, really. He enjoyed those mysterious little radio calls of his. Always made him laugh, they did!

"The General himself can give you more details when he arrives..."

Soma listened attentively as she ate. The food was good, and it disappeared quickly from her plate, but she found what the major had to say far more interesting.

So they were out to hunt down Landel and the man from the radio? It was an important mission, and she had to wonder why she'd been chosen for it out of all of the other patients in the Institute. No wonder the General himself was coming--though to be honest, she hadn't expected that. Once again her thoughts went to the conversation with the soldier this morning. Had they interpreted her words as a willingness to volunteer?

It didn't really matter. This wasn't a mission she was about to refuse. There were patients here who wanted to see Landel back in power, but Soma wasn't one of them. Not when the military was so much more straightforward--but they had to allow her to perform. She swallowed a bite of tempura.

"Will I have my abilities back?"

Kratos had mentioned knowledge of a device that suppressed powers, but it would be unwise to mention that now. What would be the point?

Major Travis was about to answer her question when suddenly from on high, Blithe added in her two cents that, yes, they assumed the patients would receive their abilities back and that, yes, there would probably be restrictions. Great.

"Yes, thank you," he felt compelled to say politely for their audience. Blithe was the only one that needed to know he hadn't meant it in the way of courtesy. But when the topic of the bracelet came up, the man took her lead and brought out the one for Maria as well, unfastening it.

"If you would stick out your arm..." He waited for her compliance before Travis held it out to adjust it for Maria. "I would like to assume I don't have to tell you not to take it off or try modifying it, but... Don't take it off or try modifying it." He made sure to catch her strange golden gaze with his hard brown just to drive home the point.

"There isn't much to restrict," said Soma, glancing across the room at the other soldier. But that was reassuring--apparently they trusted her enough to slacken their hold on the reins a little. On second thought, wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.

She hesitated as the major brought out a bracelet, but the other soldier was telling the man next to her that it was a tracking device. Nothing unusual, then, if a little primitive. She held out her wrist.

"I assume this means you aren't giving me a mobile suit tonight."

As he was fastening the strap loosely to her proffered arm, the sudden and sarcastic comment ripped a short "Ha!" from the seemingly stoic man. The sound, genuine and loud, came out of Travis before he could put a lid on it. He hadn't expected to encounter a woman with a sense of humor and, while he didn't appreciate being proven wrong, it spelled good things for the night ahead of them.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he looked at Maria when he said,"No, that seems... highly unlikely...."

The man was glad when the door opened and changed any curiosity from him to the Gen--

Nope, Harrington. Travis sat back in his chair with a soft sigh that concealed the screams of "Goddamnit" that invaded his mind. He wanted this night to start now. This waiting was making him antsy. Travis didn't do well under antsy situations.

"Alright," he said once he was done with the patient's electronic band. "That's all I need from you right now. The General will be here momentarily to tell you more."

Soma blinked for a moment, trying to identify what had been so amusing to the major. Had he thought she was joking when she mentioned the mobile suit? But she hadn't been; it only made sense to give her a weapon she knew how to use.

That was probably why it was amusing. As if they'd trust her with something that could take out the Institute in seconds.

Even so, the comment seemed to endear her to him somewhat, for what it was worth, so she offered a faint smile in return. Withdrawing her hand, she glanced at the door as it opened. The new arrival's voice was familiar, though it took her a moment to place it as the one over the intercom. Still, he wasn't the general, and it didn't seem any more details were forthcoming for the time being.

"Permission to ask a question in the meantime, sir," she said, withdrawing her arm. "What do you specialize in? I suppose I should have a general idea of your abilities before we begin the mission."

Again, he remained silent for a beat before relenting. Technically, she had a point and it would likely come up later; it might as well be now when they had the time to casually chat. Ha, shooting the shit with a patient! He never thought he would see this day.

"Surveillance, mostly. I double as a sniper when necessary." Both jobs usually kept him far from other people, and Travis was just fine with that. He was pretty sure his peers were just as happy with the arrangement as well. His brown eyes lost their focus as they lingered on something or someone in the background behind Maria.

"You are probably used to more interesting fare at night." The girl may have been relatively normal in comparison to some of her fellow patient's, but it was unlikely she had not teamed up with those who excelled in more unique talents than military-issued combat training. "I may not be able to shoot fire out of my--" He quickly rephrased his statement before all of his polite etiquette went down the drain with one word. "--self, but we normals can achieve our goals just as effectively..."

Soma nodded, offering a faint smile at the major's timely save. He didn't have to try to be so restrained; she'd spent the last year of her life living in various barracks, and there was probably very little she hadn't heard by now. Still, the attempt made her relax a little, for what it was worth.

"...I think it's better this way, actually," she offered after a moment, sensing she could probably afford to be a little more casual now. "I probably do work with more interesting fare at night, but 'interesting' isn't necessarily what I want in a straightforward mission. I've spent much longer fighting with soldiers who don't have unusual talents. I'd much rather work with abilities I can understand and rely on."

Well, this was a dilemma. Should she go ahead and stand by her fellow patient, or should she stand by the doorway and wait for instructions? There seemed no reason to bring her to this particular room, yet here she was.

Was this the forced drug trial she'd heard about from Tolten? Maya's escort hadn't explained much of importance at all. But judging from the nervousness she could see on the soldiers' faces.... Maya did not believe this was a drug trial. Major Cartwright had especially not been inclined to showing signs of her anxiety.

Since there was one familiar face among the people in the room, Maya turned to the Major almost without realizing she had done so, and tilted her head in puzzlement.

The first patient to arrive wasn't one that Cartwright recognized. It seemed that Blithe was assigned to him, and so she only watched as the other soldier coaxed the man into taking a seat and eating. Hopefully Maya would be just as willing...

Though she didn't have to wait much longer. The woman turned as she watched Maya walk in, and it was almost as if the two of them were drawn to each other by previous association. The soldier tightened her grip on the bracelet in her hand and then strode over to the female patient.

"I know you're probably confused, but just go ahead and take a seat. We've got some decent food for you here, and you're likely going to need the energy." Now that Maya had arrived, Cartwright's expression had become more controlled, her body language less anxious. She had a job to do, and she didn't want Harrington to be disappointed with her. Even though he was the one who had cursed over the intercom earlier.

She had to focus on the task at hand despite that, and so she gestured to a chair before taking a seat in the one across from it.

Maya was certainly in one of the areas marked 'Staff Only' on the map she'd been looking at earlier—not difficult when most of the map was marked as such. What seemed to be of importance was that Maya knew the way back to the patients' quarters, which was suspicious in itself—what would they do if she didn't do as ordered?—but not notable for any other reason. Certainly it could not be the reason the soldiers had initially seemed nervous. They had made Senna disappear easily enough.

It was the comment about needing energy that seemed most significant, Maya thought as she pulled out the indicated chair and took a seat. Indubitably, she would be asked to do something. Or withstand something. If nothing else, the newest patient seemed too young for it, but such a consideration had not prevented the asylum from bringing her into itself, did it not?

Three patients. Three guns. Three soldiers to use them.

My, but Maya was quite paranoid tonight, was she not? She could mention that human life energy was energy that best sustained her, but it would merely be for her own amusement—none of the soldiers were likely to appreciate it at all. Lifting the cover and picking up a utensil, Maya asked, "Can you explain this operation? Surely it can't be usual."

The last patient finally arrived, and it was yet another familiar face. Now that Cartwright thought of it, she'd never asked for the young woman's name. It hadn't been her decision to have her placed into this particular mission, but she had to admit the she would probably be a good pick for this job, seeing how she was apparently a supersoldier.

Would Maya be as good of a choice? And how about the other man? There had to be a reason all of them had been selected, but she hadn't been given that information personally.

While she was somewhat tempted to signal the other patient right now, that would probably come across as unprofessional. For that reason, the woman ignored her and focused her attention on Maya instead. "You're right, it's not usual at all. From what I've been told, you'll be pairing up with a soldier and heading out to try and track down both Landel and Marc, the man from the radio." Her face was suddenly completely devoid of emotion as she related the facts.

"Actually, I'm filling in for Major Harrington right now. He was supposed to be here and explain it to you, but he had something else to take care of. He should be up here soon enough, though. As will the general. He'll have all the details."

It was as difficult as always to read the Major. Maya glanced at the other two soldiers, but it would be rude to focus on others while the inhabitants of this room were so obviously in pairs. She had no way of communicating with her fellow patients, either; no way to discuss the suspicions they might have where the soldiers wouldn't hear.

Still, they'd begun eating the offered food readily enough, but Maya had spent her day talking about what strange things were done to patients. Maya had eaten more than usual at lunch to recompense her missed breakfast; she didn't need human food as often as a human did to function well. Basic functions, at least; Maya could no longer function well—what King had done could not be undone.

Which meant the discussion she was overhearing about restored abilities was not pertinent to Maya's case. Pity. She wondered what abilities her fellow patients would be getting back, but Maya had other things she needed to concentrate on.

Landel, and the Radio Man. The latest Intercom Man as well, if Maya had remembered the name correctly. And the general. Maya would have been amused, if she were not certain she was not being given a choice in the matter. Should she mention she had no tracking ability? That the abilities she did have had been stripped from her long before she woke up to the walls of this asylum?

Best not. She couldn't see Wataru again if she were dead. "What an interesting development," she remarked instead. "You asked me before: what I had to offer. Is it for this reason? To placate your enemies?"

It was no surprise that Maya wanted to know about that, but the major got the feeling that her answer would be a disappointment. "I didn't have anything to do with you being picked, at least in that I wasn't consulted. It's possible that Aguilar was aware of our conversation, though."

She had to admit it would have been a strange coincidence for two of the four patients she'd personally talked to over the past two days to be chosen. In the end, though, that wasn't what mattered.

No, she had specific orders to follow, and as she watched the other two soldiers present the bracelets, Cartwright realized that she had to do the same. After fumbling under the desk for a moment, she procured the electronic device. "We have to fit all of you with these to make sure that you don't try to run off or do anything against our orders. If you don't mind..."

She unclasped the circular device and started to extend it toward Maya's wrist.

It did seem to be self-evident, did it not? The expected answer or no, there had been talk of the patients being tested at night. The soldiers—the general—wanted what the patients could do. As for what Maya couldn't do... Well, the Major had already answered that question.

Even if she were aware of it, there was no option but to comply, so Maya unhesitatingly brought her wrist forward. "Not too tight, please," she said.

Still, it was an interesting thought. It was easy to surmise how much of a threat Landel could be; Maya assumed he'd run the asylum for a while. But as to whether Landel would truly betray his masters so easily... Such a capricious person surely would not have been placed in charge of an operation like the institute? Unless the affairs here were not as important as the soldiers made it seem. But this was all pure speculation that brought Maya nowhere. She could think on it more when she was presented with the details, Maya assumed.

In response to the request, Major Cartwright just shook her head. There was no need for it to be tight. Once the wristband was in place, there would be no way for the patient to remove it, so it could fit as loosely as she wanted.

One of the soldier's hands clasped firmly around Maya's arm to hold it in place while the other looped the bracelet around her wrist. She fastened it and once that was done sat back in her seat, looking somewhat relieved.

"And that's all we've been asked to do." The other two soldiers were almost through with their tasks as well, so it seemed like night was almost upon them. "At this point we'll just need to wait." Which was a surprisingly difficult task, considering what laid in store for them. Tracking down a man who was known to be immensely powerful and an unpredictable member of the rebel group -- who wouldn't be a little antsy?

Being prompt was a basic requirement in the military. Lax timing spoke more for a soldier's competency than battle techniques while write-ups never quite went away in the system as swiftly as treason. Major Harrington, however, supposed his little side trip made up for the break in the rules. Besides, he had someone competent covering for him.

A fact further cemented when the man entered the meeting room, looking proper for someone coming in late. He noted the bracelet around Maya's wrist with an expression like apathy, before breaking into a wide smile. "Ms. Maya. Major Cartwright," Claude chirped, sliding over to the pair. A nod was thrown to Travis, Blithe, and their charges. "My apologies for being late. I appreciate your patience."

He stopped short of the women and bowed curtly--his way of expressing both sentiments. "And I see you've already covered the basics," he stated while straightening.

"A pleasure to meet you," Maya responded casually. By 'basics,' Major Cartwright hadn't mentioned that Maya should stand or bow or any of the sort for Harrington, or even for the general. Maya could hardly be expected to follow a lead she had not been given, yes?

At least the bracelet seemed fairly unobstructive, Maya thought as she lifted her wrist to look at it. She could think of many ways this tracking device could be made very uncomfortable for the one being tracked. Yet Maya had thought the patients were being tracked anyway. Perhaps the bracelet was a more advanced model? "Does it do anything else? Communications capability, perhaps?"

Oh, there he was. Cartwright glanced up from the table to watch as Harrington walked in, glad to see that he'd kept to his word about making it here as soon as he was done with whatever task he'd needed to attend to. He didn't have a place to sit, but he was simply going to have to deal with that.

"Yes, I think I took care of everything you asked," she replied before returning her attention to Maya to answer her question.

"Nothing like that, no. We decided it would be too large of a risk, seeing how the rebel seems to have a knack for hacking into transmissions of that sort." They needed to be as subtle with this whole mission as possible, and that meant that it had to be on a need-to-know basis and that information should be passed as sparingly as they could manage.

Day 59: Meeting Room 1

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