<ul>"Moment of weakness, Quen," she offered with a smile, glancing at him briefly over a shoulder as he pressed his hand against it and began to lead her towards the containment cell. Obligingly, the woman's feet moved along the ship at a relatively languid pace. While she was enjoying bantering with him, the truth of the matter was her sharp, brown eyes were floating across every part of the ship they could see, registering their placement and planning her escape.<br/><br/>Despite what she had told him, Zilah had absolutely no intention of meeting a judge. Prison wasn't for her, and given the long list of offences, she doubted they would even do her that kindness. There were worse punishments in the Empire, and the thought could chill anyone's bones.<br/><br/>The containment cell was exactly what one would expect it to be. A piece of metal jutted out from the wall, with a thin foam mattress providing the ultimate luxury. On the other end was a toilet for all of one's biological needs, a small sink and the remainder was hollow and empty and lacked any personal flair. Before he had pushed her inside, the woman quickly noted the biometric hand reader that would act as a lock. <br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Simultaneously analyze more than 31,000 points! The system records 90 different measurements of your hand! You'll never have to remember another code again.</span><br/><br/>Or so the advertisement had gone. Zilah remembered being impressed as a child, though the technology had advanced light years since then. If she hoped to escape that way, she'd have to cut off Quen's hand first.<br/><br/>When the cuffs came off, the woman sighed softly, rubbing her fingers over her wrists. Nodding wordlessly at him, she turned around to watch the officer leave, the heavy door closing behind him. For a moment, there was quiet and only the sound of her breathing filled the air. Glancing to the ceiling, she noted a camera -- it's lens almost impossible to see to the untrained eye. Turning her back to it, the woman leisurely strolled to the bed they had provided her with. Then, ever so carefully so that the camera would not record any suspicious movement and alert the AI system, she began to pull out the several small knives hidden on her person that Quen had not bothered to check for. Mistake number one. <br/><br/>Slipping them under the mattress, she smiled as the foam sucked them in and retained its shape. <br/><br/>Once that was done, deft fingers began to pull on the straps of her fitted Kevlar vest, tossing it on the floor and revealing the grey wife beater beneath. The ends of the fabric had been soiled with her blood and had taken the colour of a sickly brown. Her face scrunched in disgust, feet kicking off her heavy boots while her hands undid the clasps of her pants. Eventually she was left in only a black sports bra that criss-cross behind her back, and a pair of black shorts. Heading to the sink, her heat activated the flow of water and gingerly she used her hands to wash away the blood stains against the skin of her thighs and stomach. <br/><br/>It was only a matter of biding her time now. They still had a ways to go before they would reach their destination.<br/></ul>