04.03.3014: Able Was I Ere I Saw Abel
Summary: Professor Figueroa informs Sarah that there is another Hostile prisoner in Havenite hands.
Date: 16 December, 2013
Related: Tomb Raiders
Sauveur Sarah 


Sarah's Cell, Landing
A small cell with an energy field cutting it off from the rest of the building.
3 April, 3014

Lorraine Figueroa, former vice chair of the Hostile Studies department at the Academ, is now the nearest thing that Haven has to a non-military expert on the Hostiles. As she does every day, Professor Figueroa allows Sarah time to awaken, have breakfast — as delivered by her guards — and then arrives to sit down outside the energy field in the chair provided for just that occasion. "Good morning, Sarah 113 of 164. How are you today?"

The Havenites have experimented with what sort of foods a Hostile will eat. Today has been a trial run at oranges and cooked oats. She does not take such things as sugar or cream in her oats, but instead eats them as plain as possible. The orange is accepted, but she does strange things like ingesting the entire fruit including the bitter pith. She has claimed her metal chair just across from the Professor with her breakfast tray now empty save for her unwashed bowl. "Good morning, Figueroa," Sarah says in her flat alto.

Professor Figueroa offers up a polite smile, "Today we will begin a new experience together, Sarah. You have been away from other Cantosans for so long, but that will change shortly." The woman's dark eyes study the captive carefully as she speaks, "As soon as he has recovered from his wounds, we will be introduced into the next room over." Poising her fingers over her datapad, she enquires, "Are there any formalities that should be observed on such an occasion?"

For once in the two-hundred and thirty days since Sarah's arrival, the Cantosan blinks in surprise. She slowly stands from the chair she had just claimed moments ago, drawing up to her full height with her cybernetic hands sweeping behind her to interlock at her back. "Depends," Sarah says, though her voice is still edged with uncertainty. "Have you discovered his designation?" She steps forward a couple strides, turning away from the Professor thoughtfully.

The Professor tilts her head slightly to one side at the reaction from her… guest… although she doesn't say anything immediately, not until Sarah makes her own inquiry. "So it would depend on his designation? On his caste, I presume?" A few notes are added to the datapad, and then she responds, "He is what we have taken to calling 'an Elite.' He has not been conscious long enough for intensive questioning, but he has informed us that his name is Abel."

Sarah tilts her head ever so slightly as she considers the professor, and thens he offers a vague nod ofher chin. "Yes, his caste." But when the Inner Worlder provides her with the initial designation, the Cantosan goes very still. Her luminous blue gaze remains locked on Figueroa's. "Which Abel?" She asks, and there is a hint of strain in her voice at that simple, two word question.

Professor Figueroa leans forward slightly at the highly unusual response to her information. "He has not been able to provide that information." Interest glints in her dark eyes, "You seem… anxious, Sarah 113 of 164. Is there a particular reason why having an Elite present, or an Abel present, would make you anxious?"

The Soldier is silent for a moment, standing in profile to the Inner Worlder. She stares ahead of her at the white, empty wall. "The Abel Coterie has…" Her lips pull back over her teeth slightly, and then she rolls her shoulders back. "Has a reputation…" She flicks her gaze toward the professor. "You must hope that you did not capture the Steelhands."

The Professor frowns slightly, but it is not a displeased expression, but rather one of curiosity. "I'm sure we will be quite safe, but this Abel only has a single cybernetic hand." A few more notes are added to her datapad, and then she continues, "What, pray tell, is the reputation for? By your, shall I continue to use the word 'anxiety' or would you prefer 'fear,' Sarah?" She hesitates a heartbeat for response, then goes on, "By your reaction, I would presume it is a rather violent reputation."

The Cantosan curls her lips back over her white teeth in a snarl as the Professor dares to suggest fear. "It is you that should be afraid, Lorraine Figgeroa… you have a Vanguard in your midst that you may not be able to control. Pray you don't have that Abel in your midst, for I have been a rather livable captive… he will see you dead, Figueroa."

Figueroa's frown shifts at the captive's response, and she sets the datapad down for a moment. "You are quite serious about this, aren't you, Sarah?" Shifting in her chair, she studies the Hostile intently, "If you were anyone but who you are, I might consider that concern for my well-being." There is a short pause before she adds, "But I will not insult you so. The Watchmen assure me that with the energy field in place, and his cybernetics deactivated, this Abel will not be a threat to me, to you, or anyone else here."

Sarah says nothing more as she stalks toward the back of the cell, pacing almost nervously. She glances sidelong toward the Professor, lips curling back over her teeth once more. "You are starting a collection, Figueroa. I was a complacent prisoner, Inner Worlder… but I am not a representative of my people."

The Professor nods her head, "You have been an admirable prisoner, Sarah 113 of 164. Very civilized and human." There is a hint of extra emphasis on the last word, and she watches her prisoner for a response, "Are you saying that this able is not going to be so? Should we eliminate him before he is fully conscious in order to preserve our own lives? Kill him while he is helpless and unable to defend himself?"

Sarah is silent for a moment, staring across at the white wall that is the back of her cell. She rolls her shoulders back slightly, straightening up her soldiers poise. "No," she says in that flat alto. She glances slightly over her shoulder toward Figueroa. "No."

Professor Figueroa nods at the response, "I thought as much. So then, what suggestions do you have to ensure that there need be no more death than necessary? Should we call him Vanguard? Or simply Abel? Is there anything that must be done when greeting a Vanguard?" Now the datapad is up again, ready to take preliminary notes.

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