Spook couldn't help grinning when she was told her bail price, she almost laughed out loud. No chance in hell was she getting sprung by anyone she'd met in this lifetime, it made her rethink the resume idea too. If she started trying to brag she was worth even a hundreth of that amount according to WatchTower, someone was liable to get the wrong idea and try to gun her down. It was something to be quietly proud of, at least.<br/><br/>The smile faded when the techs came in, she was less than thrilled to have the blade removed from her leg. Even if it was a temporary measure it made her that much more vulnerable, especially with one arm hanging useless and the other banged up. On the plus side they looked like they knew what they were doing, she watched them carefully and didn't notice anything which would compromise the limb's non-stabbing related functions.<br/><br/>She gave a final nod to the armoured woman while being escorted to her home for the day, figuring this was the last they'd see each other... if Spook was lucky. All her snark hadn't managed to get the slightest response, far as could be seen from outside the faceless visor at any rate. Lunch would have been nice, mostly because she really hadn't eaten in a while and she doubted meals were included during her stay.<br/><br/>The cell was clean, sterile. She hadn't spent time in a clean room for... it must have been close to a decade by now. Spook started out well enough, reading the policies to pass time. Pacing back and forth. Trying to attract the passing guard's attention with increasingly outlandish ways, including pressing her body flush against the transparent wall facing them as they walked by in that same steady pace.<br/><br/>Meditation was a no-go, the combination of her nudity, damaged arm and removed weapons left her feeling exposed enough that she wasn't going to add actively blocking out her senses to the list. Even though she was probably safer by far in that cell than anywhere in the Dreg, the passing guards were still walking deathmachines. That left simply lying down on the floor, her left arm behind her head while she stared up at the black, domed ceiling where her reflection stared back at her. Just like the guard's helmet.<br/><br/>Who watched the cameras on the other end? Some voyeuristic pervert maybe. She hoped it was someone like that, really. The Dreg's popular opinion on PMC soldiers, aside from that they were scary as fuck and would drop you in a second flat, was that they were close to soulless. No tech head had been able to crack the AI myth, so the corps had done the next best thing by paying humans enough to act without thought or emotion. Sure, she'd seen a couple of WT units carry on a friendly conversation, but how deep did it really go? Where did their freedoms stop and corporate policy begin? She'd already forgotten most of what she'd read off the wall, a luxury those units marching outside would never have.<br/><br/>Pangu had been a fun visit to visit, but she was ready to get back to the Dreg. Twenty-four hours. She'd make it. Somehow.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>