Reaper of Rishiri

[Ramke]

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Claire wanted to return to the Belisama ever since she left, however she didn't feel at all relieved once she was back to where she started. As soon as she started moving through the hallways, her memories came flooding back. Once having ran through the very same narrow corridors to escape, she was now being escorted back into the depths of the ship. That didn't bode well for her composure, but she managed to contain her anxiousness to the point where she seemed like she was only marginally phased by the situation. It seemed like the atmosphere changed significantly, with most of what she considered friends and colleagues now looking at her with disdain as she was cuffed and led through the bowels of the ship.

Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, she listened to the exchange between the marine and the commander. She tried adjusting her wrists, but the cuffs were uncomfortably tight and refused to budge. The noble felt his judgemental eyes pierce through her shallow confidence as he turned his gaze, almost making her drop her facade. His nonchalant command to murder the people she arrived with stunned her even further, her eyes widening in response. She opened her mouth to reply, but the first words came a second later. "Commandeur, you cannot be serious!" she spoke as she stammered the beginning of her sentence.

"I've had these men bring you all the supplies necessary to keep this ship alive. Food, water, tools, fuel. They even brought prometheum!" she explained in a quick pace. Most of those resources were of Gallic origin, and the fact that the Outcasts had them in the first place didn't bring any uncertainty as to how they were obtained. Despite what losses Gallic traffic may have suffered for them to obtain that cargo, she hoped it would at least be put to good use.

"You can't call yourself a servant of the Kingdom if you decide to treat a member of DeFrance like some common criminal and murder those who help you!"

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