View source for 2023-01-28: Though I am suspicious of any friend I may make in this place, I cannot deny your good character

*'''Log: Though I am suspicious of any friend I may make in this place, I cannot deny your good character'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Yuliana Kafim]], [[Character :: Treize Khushrenada]]
*'''Where: California Justice Facility, Britannia''' 
*'''Date: 2023-01-28''' 
*'''Summary''': ''Colonel Khushrenada comes to interrogate G-Hound's newest star prisoner, and Yuliana is worn down enough from so much imprisonment that she's even willing to accept his kindness. She betrays Sophia's secrets, but not her wife's or Celestial Being's. Yuliana tells Treize all about her life -- but not about those strange dragon kaiju associated with her.''
----

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Phase 1, Turn 2]]


 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Even given her interrogations, Yuliana has plenty of time to herself, to consider the situation she's found herself in. To grow more nervous, more worried, as the hours stretch out and Elisa still has not appeared. Elisa is not someone who beholds the Void as Yuliana does; did Yuliana err, leaving her to her communion? Did Elisa find some trouble, piercing the veil to reality? Does she need Yuliana's help, even now, as she is trapped under the loving guise of this sniper?

        Jona's words press at her, but not, perhaps, entirely for the reason he'd expect. Her captivity... Elisa would not allow this. That she still is trapped here speaks volumes. For some reason, Elisa hasn't saved her.

        And Yuliana does not think, first, that G-Hound has found a security system capable of abjuring her indomitable wife.

        It's not withdrawals which are making her sweat, now, as the days stretch on and she remains in this cage. It's been over a week. Over a week... and so, something ''must'' be wrong.

        Externally, the greatest clue to her agitation is the variability in her behaviour -- from petulant to angry to miserable to alarmingly ''cheery.'' But whenever they ask (tell) her to situate herself in the audience chair to be restrained for the safety of her visitors (interrogators), her mood inevitably turns sour.

        Then, as now, the warden tells her to muzzle herself, and she dutifully does so. A minimal amount of cooperation is -- better, than the alternative. (Being fair, she has been quite cooperative... about her involvement with the REA, if not her involvement with those otherworldy kaiju.) The restraints lock about her lower limbs, and, thus bound, her fingers drum at the armrests.

        The precautions suit their concerns. They've called her a Class S threat, the worst of the worst. Thanks in large part to Captain Castellan's recommendations, no effort has been spared in her containment. They don't just put ''common criminals'' in OverMax. But sitting here, bound to a chair, Yuliana appears to be nothing more than a perfectly average woman with one too many teeth to her smile. She appears this way -- because the hollow nothing about her cannot threaten normal humans, those beings she champions.

        Even purely in the physical realm, though, appearances can be misleading... because Yuliana has been a special operative for the REA for many years. Nasty rumours -- never quite substantiated -- follow her presence in Helmajistan during a time of great instability before Axis Shock. She's suspected, but not ''implicated,'' in Australia's potentially-astroturfed riots and protests, but not even the OCU's vast network of spies have managed to conclusively pin her as a saboteur. (Not in any way that ''sticks.'' They got her on Helmajistan, once, late in '93. The accusations were quietly dropped after some shadowy internal Federation deals.) She's a known recruiter in Moralia, and even her efforts to ''clean up'' the corruption of Khanka in her joint efforts with the Hyperion have proved... suspiciously lacklustre. And, of course, there are darker rumours -- that Yuliana's defence of her country isn't just conducted in mobile suits, or within the realm of law. (Kindly, the word is 'enforcer'; unkindly, 'wetworker'.)

        Of course, as one of the REA's ace pilots, Yuliana has plenty of heroics under her belt -- like when she left Helmajistan to address the Devil Gundam, and helped defend the world against Axis Shock. Her service record even ''begins'' with defying her military designation as a mechanic in order to fight in the Mycenae War. (Of course, she really came into her own ''later,'' when she was employed as a weapon during intra-Federation conflict...) Given those actions, it's not unbelievable she would have put herself in danger to address a ''Macross-class'' unit deployed in a civilian environment.

        Whatever the case, she's not a threat ''now.'' Is she?

        "All clear," the warden confirms the lock, visually and through his console. The prisoner is firmly secured; there should be no threat to their VIP. "Go ahead, Colonel, sir."

        The door to the circular cell opens, and Yuliana turns her head to observe it, a smile fixed to her face.

        She will not do Treize the courtesy of beginning the conversation.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        The Colonel is accompanied by several people, which some may think is a power move but really the following actions are totally just because Treize could not convince the warden to let them do this somewhere nicer. So Colonel Khushrenada stands as a private brings in a foldout chair and another brings in a small lawn table and sets it up before a third brings in a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of wine. All within Yuliana's reach. Finally when the setup is done Treize smiles, "Thank you gentlemen that will be all."

         Moving to sit the wine bottle and picking it up, "I hope you don't mind. I understand the hostess is suppose to choose the wine but I felt you might have ran out so I took the liberty." Producing a cork screw he undoes the cork and pours the wine into each glass and sets the wine aside, before picking up the glass and offering it to her.

         Treize would eventually make his way over to the provided chair as he takes his own glass and sips. " A good year. Anyways how are you ? Are they giving you everything you need?  I hear a year of good behavior and they might offer you a room with a view."


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Yuliana watches the whole procession, fingers drumming on her armrest. She is, of course, restrained; as ever, her lower arms and legs are locked in those shackles, keeping her to the chair.

        But her response, laced with sardony, is this: "I don't drink."

        Never mind that she ''can't,'' at present.

        She scowls, as she looks over to the Colonel. "My treatment has met the requirements of humane captivity with regards to hostile combatants, vis-a-vis Chapter 7, Article 13," she cites the regulations, from memory. "I can't complain, Colonel."

        A breath of a pause, as she looks down, to the ring finger of her right hand.

        "Just... I miss my wife," the addendum slips out, a shade more honest and miserable.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        Treize sets her drink on the table, she may change her mind after all. The smile on the Colonel's face faulters as the mention of the wife. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had someone. Your file didn't mention that. " Treize frowns a bit as he does prefer to have all the information on hand.  Taking a moment he considers, "Is there a message you would like passed on. If you were to provide contact information I could at least see that she gets it."

         Treize looks at the glass of wine for the moment before he looks back at his hostess, "So, you know how this goes, you have been where I have been, I can only assume that you that can already guess my next twenty questions so I apologize if it gets a little cliche."

         Finall Treize looks Yuliana in her eyes, " I would like for you to tell me about you. In particular I am rather curious about the dragons. As you know , blah blah blah, if you cooperate, etc etc, things can only get better for you."


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "I'll pass on the details," of one of the contact options which routes through a shell company, at least; Yuliana isn't going to trust G-Hound with a ''direct'' line to her wife. But the message will get to her, and that message is: "Tell her I'm here, I'm alive... and I'm sorry."

        Treize isn't the beneficiary of that vulnerability. Strange, perhaps, to see she's capable of it regardless.

        Her expression cools, again, to hear him shift to his so-called twenty questions.

        "You'd like to know about me, mm? All right." Yuliana ''would'' cross her legs, if she could; she very much can't, at present, though certainly her knees shift with the inclination. "I was born Yuliana Dian, back in '67 -- my mother is Sashenka Dian, and my father's Tri Darma Dian. He was a Major, himself, before he retired." Nothing about dragons, thus far, with her dry recital. "As a child, I enjoyed participating in ''gamelan'' performances. A theatre kid, I believe you call it, over here. I performed well in school, and after my mother retired from the Peace Mediation Organisation, I had plenty of personal tutelage." 'Retired from', after '67, likely means something entirely different than the choice Yuliana's framing it as.

        "Of course, the One Year War put a stop to all that," Yuliana sighs. "I was twelve when it happened -- when they dropped Sydney, the flooding reached all the way to Ambon. My home was destroyed, so we moved to Makassar. That was... fine, for a year, until Second Impact. Then -- well, living on an ''island'' was quite an issue, you might expect." Second Impact caused sea levels to rise abruptly, after all. "Given ''that'' displacement, we elected to move to my mother's homeland, up in Chukotka. Far more inland. Far more cold, at that."

        Yuliana shrugs, glancing away, for a moment. "With all those disruptions, I never quite managed to get myself back into school -- I picked up an apprenticeship with a wanzer engineer, instead. She taught me how to work machines, and that's what I took with me when I went to register for the military when I turned eighteen. Well, I outperformed in basic training, so they approached me for a certain project..."

        There's something haunted, in her eyes, as she trails off briefly.

        "Anyway, that should all be in Captain Castellan's report," she insists. "You ''do'' document your interrogations, I hope?"

        Strictly speaking, she did answer Treize's question.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        Treize sits and listens, and does take advantage of the fact that he can cross his legs as he listens.  "I promised the warden and several officials that I would write up a report on this interrogaation. Also of course it is being filmed, though it would be a shame if the recordings became corrupted." The Colonel chuckles as he processes the origin story of Yuliana.

         The haunted look in her eye didn't go unnoticed either and he begins to piece it together, "I believe I can fill in a few gaps from there, this project did things that were not on the up and up. They were attempting to expand on humanity or something like that. " Treize had heard that story before as he thinks back to several under his command who went through something similar.

         Treize lets his assumption hang out there before he continues, " Unfortunately I fear I can not guess recent events in your life. I don't suppose you would regail me with that part of the story. Please tell me, from your point of view what led you to this fine facility, as I feel you had some other choices that would not have ended with you in the slammer. "


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Quite," Yuliana agrees, of how easy it is for visual evidence to go missing; despite her fixed smile, she can't quite hide the tension in the word. Certainly there's a reason why ''she'' tended to lose footage of prisoners, and it was rarely good for them.

        She takes a breath, eyes closing, for a moment. "... to this facility? I can't fathom the precise details, but your Captain Castellan is a ''particular'' aberration. Did you know?" Her gaze cracks open, green eyes veiling through teal lashes, as she looks to Treize. "Though I kept myself well-hidden, still she saw through all my veils and precautions... it's very, very interesting."

        She has no reason to keep Sophia's secrets.

        The feeling's no doubt mutual, in Yuliana's mind.

        "But recently -- recently..." She could mention Celestial Being, here. She does not. Instead: "... in '96, I was married to my beautiful wife." Her smile grows more genuine, for a moment, as she speaks of her. "And though Captain Aiden tried to kill me on the happiest day of my life, we gave her nothing at all."

        She looks down, at her wedding bands, again. Rich gold and emerald, diamonds on one side, onyx on the other. It's far too expensive for a socialist. She feels so much better, to think of Elisa.

        With a slow blink, she returns her attention to Treize. "But... my commanding officer, Major Pham, did not... entirely approve of me building a life of my own, outside my work. I was able to dismiss these doubts, for a while, but... I found myself in possession of some past correspondence from the head scientist of my project. I learned... how they spoke of me." The warmth flees her eyes, as her fingers tighten to what fists they can, on the armrests. "And I was not inclined to report my negative feelings to the psychiatrist, then. I became angry at the Federation... anyone would!"


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        "Major Pham, yes i know him. " Treize says as he grabs on to the first thing that he can respond to that doesn't require him to think on the response.  Treize had received several messages from Pham, " Yes I can tell they are desperate to get you back.   So many damn messages demanding you to be handed over immediately, not really a people person is he?" Treize doesn't give an answer to whether he has agreed to it.

         Still there is a deeper couple of things to poke at, " The abberation that is captain Castellan, is  enticing, I plan to circle back to that. I want to ask you about your wife. Was she the one that summoned the kaijus at JOSH-A?  I heard several things that were unbelievable about that day, water into blood, magic, summoning Kaijus, and  a few more fantastical things. "

         Before Yuliana can respond about her wife Treize holds up his hand and stands up, "Sorry I apologize. That is rude and insulting. First off this isn't about your wife, this is about you. Second I can already tell if any of that was your wife you would tell me exactly what I could do with my questions. Please forget I ask that.  Pretend I asked you to reveal whatever you were meaning about Castellan, at least that sounds reasonable."

          Finally Treize takes his seat again and looks back at Yuliana, and continues his conversation,  "If you were to leave this institute right now, what would you do? "


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        ''That'' makes Yuliana flinch -- hearing just how eager Pham is for her return. Fear enters her gaze. "Please," she hisses, not too proud to beg. "You're a Colonel. You can deny him. I'll cooperate -- I've cooperated! -- only, do not return me to the REA."

        But even though she says that, she still scowls, when Treize asks about her wife. She remains quiet -- but Treize knew she would, perhaps, with the way he moves on so quickly. Her gaze follows him, as he stands, and tension enters her gaze again. She can't stand to match him, after all.

        She sighs, releasing some of that tension, as he sits and asks another question. "I wish only to go home," she answers his last one, first, and she is muted. She looks away. "To return to my wife. I never should have left her. Protecting those people while I was wanted was a fool's errand... I should have trusted someone else would address it. I have... ever been impulsive and rash."

        And how wretched it feels.

        "As for Captain Castellan," she answers his question, acquiescent, "she was able to sense me despite my precautions. It is true that Newtypes know just who I am, when I get close enough... because I am a thing created to annul their violation. But I was careful never to draw close to anyone, in that battle. I used identity modulators to mask my voice print on the radio, as well, so she could not have grasped the truth of me through mundane means."

        Yuliana frowns. "I have dealt with her frequently, given her interests in Khanka." They were working together -- to clean the city up, supposedly. (The slow progress of that project was surely Yuliana's fault.) "I am someone who can identify psychic individuals, but even so, I knew nothing of Sophia. Not until..." She trails off, and shakes her head.

        "I do not believe she is a Newtype. Even so... she is ''something.''"


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        Treize listens , and can hear the regret to  her actions, "You should not regret your actions. you moved to protect people, it was a noble action and in a way I regret you have to be a victem of your own good deed. " His words carry a similar level of regret. "I can not release you, Yuliana, at least not yet. However I willdo you two favors. Number one I will not ask you questions about your wife, nor will anyone else under my command. "

         Treize pauses a moment as he thinks about his words carefully before he says, "The second thing I will do is issue a public statement that we at G-Hound have no intention of turning you over to REA, this includes Major Pham. " Treize continues to look at Yuliana, and somewhere in his heart he can't help but have a soft spot for her. Perhaps it is for the sincerity of love, or simply how much her story reminds him of the School and Ouka.

        He leans back in his chair and picks up his wine glass as he sips it, " I do not believe you are a bad person, i think simply you were forced to make some decisions that do not fit well with who you are and that has led you to here. The way I have come to understand this situation is that the moment it can be determined that you have nothing more useful to tell us, I will have no reason to keep you confined. I hope that perhaps by then if nothing else I can recruit you, you are quite a skilled pilot. However at the same time I hope you will continue to choose retirement when the time comes."

         Treize says nothing about Captain Castellan but he is thinking on it. Thinking about all the rumors and sem explanations of newtype and Yuliana, and how somehow she is tied to the rediculous events of JOSH-A and even more so now to find out someone else is something besides a Newtype, what else could one be in this day and age. A thought for another time perhaps.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Thank you," Yuliana says, of his thoughtfulness about her wife.

        And he's willing to make a public statement... Yuliana dips her head, in a nod. "Thank you," she says, again. "A public statement will be difficult for them to circumvent... while keeping up appearances, at least." The Republic, she knows, hates to be seen ''doing;'' making movement embarrassing for them is the best protection she might have.

        Surely she's not... ''that'' important.

        She's quiet, for a moment. "I'm not a bad person," Yuliana insists, against the weight of all her crimes. She, at least, believes it. "I want to make this world better..." She starts, and trails off; she still knows better than to try and convince Treize of the truth.

        They are not ''ready,'' for the truth.

        "I admit, it is... difficult for me to imagine fighting for the Federation," and Yuliana shouldn't say this much, ''knows'' the psychological trick of allying oneself with their prisoner, but even so, it works. "Even if it is just the Republic which treats people so... even if that's true, and we both know it isn't, I just can't believe in a Federation which allows these things in the name of progress." Her voice is thin, and strained, as her fingers curl. "... they tortured me. Tormented me! All for their 'next step of warfare'..."

        She looks vaguely ill, to say it.

        "The Republic... made it very clear to me I could not retire from their service. Were I capable of doing such a thing... I would take it as a kindness."


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        Treize had now been playing this game of politics for the last year, but surely there is a large list of people that would rather him get killed by one of these damn upstart pilots instead of letting him continue to grow stronger and the best part of all this. "I am glad we can agree on a few points then, that you are not a bad person and that we both want to make this world better."

          Treize sips his wine,  and provides caution to his offer, "I am not saying you will be flying with us tomorrow, though I wish you were I could use some more members of G-hound and less Blue Cosmos pretending to be G-Hound. However, trust must be built and earned, you do not trust me enough to fly under me and I do not trust you enough to give you a mobile suit. Yet.  At the same time I want you to understand, if that time ever comes you wouldn't be flying under the federation. You would be flying under me." The grin that touches Treize's lips right there is the grin of a man that knows what he is implying.

         Still though he does not let that grin linger for long, this is not a moment to be grinning and smirking as he speaks up, "As far as I am concerned Ms. Kafim, the moment they issued a warrant for your arrest deeming you a traitor they broke your contract of service. I would say at this moment you are a free agent, and as far those who want the next step of warfare, they are fools who fail to see the power of humanity."


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        It's definitely easier on Yuliana -- Treize deciding she's not a bad person.

        She raises a brow, as Treize grins. "A compelling offer," she allows him, and she isn't lying to his face, either. "Were the situation different, you may even convince me." Does she mean the situation they're in, with her under all this confinement?

        Well, that's also true.

        But Yuliana is quickly learning that the only person she can really listen to is...

        Mrs. Kafim, she corrects him, in her mind, as Treize goes on. "Mrs. Kafim," she corrects him, out loud, once he's finished speaking. "And we agree that their desires are myopic. They mean to position themselves as kingmakers in the coming era of mass Cyber-Newtype production and warfare. They do not... ''appreciate'' me," and there is anger, in her voice, as her gaze drops to her right hand again.

        She is quiet, for a moment.

        "So this is a story about... being free."


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        "Mrs. Kafim, I apologize for that. " Treize actually seems a bit embarrassed at the faux pas, so often these days the ladies he deals with are unattached and it was just a slip of his tongue but he is flustered by it. It even takes a moment for him to seem to regain his composure.

         Still at the mention of the story Treize shakes his head as he rises from his seat again. This time he approaches her  drawing something out of his pocket as he does. Once in arms length he reaches out to her left arm, specifically the restraint and unshackles her left arm. The rest remains but if nothing else her arm is free. The benefits of being The Colonel. "This is a story of learning to trust new people while removing the shackles of the old."

        When the shackle is free he would return to his seat for the moment and watch carefully at what happens. Was it a risk, sure. Mainly a risk to him that she would do something stupid and get herself killed, but still a risk. Still everyday there should be a little risk.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Colonel --" the warden starts, in concern, as Treize approaches his prisoner. But... "As you will, sir," he sighs, because this man is a lieutenant and he does ''not'' have the rank to tell ''Treize Khushrenada'' what to do.

        Even the ''sniper'' tilts his gun away, in deference to Treize closing the space with his target.

        Yuliana, for her part, watches him with the greatest ''suspicion'' -- and, perhaps, a shred of fear. He's a powerful man at the best of times, and even more, in her current situation. "You --" she starts, in surprise, as he undoes the bindings on one of her arms.

        She does ''not'' use her Cyber-Newtype enhancement to grab him, or anything of the sort, though she does pull her hand back to her chest rather than leave it on the armrest.

        Of course, she's still being watched -- and that sniper returns his attention right to her, just as soon as Treize leaves the shot. She's hardly free, by any measure, even with one hand loose. She knows that perfectly well. Still...

        Yuliana's left hand crosses her body, to lay over her right, fingers curling about the hand with her wedding ring. What happens... is simply that she holds her own hand.

        "It is difficult for me to trust anyone," she admits, quietly, and not without pain. "But, I... I recognise you are a man of valour, Colonel. ... I thank you for that." Even if it's just a psychological trick, she thinks... even if that's true, she's still grateful.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Treize Khushrenada has posed.
<poem>

        Treize looks at the wine glass and remembers what was said at the beginning of the meeting. That the lady doesn't drink. Still just like many things he has done today, it was a gesture. Treize doesn't take his seat.  "Mrs. Kafim, I feel like I have come to the end of our first moment together like this. I will make it an extra effort to visit  regularly though. " Treize picks up his glass and finishes off the remaining wine , in both glasses before he corks the wine for transport.

         Turning he waves over the privates to retrieve the items that were brought in. Once he does he turns back to face Yuliana, "Let me know when you pass on the contact information that anything else you need I will do my best to see that you get it, within reason. "

         Once all the items are cleared out, Treize standing their supervising he looks back at the hostess, "I am also just a phone call away incase you decide you want to share anything. Also don't give up hope, I want you to get your retirement , sounds to me like you deserve it." The last words are said with some warmth to them, more then likely meant for someone else but still the warmth is there. With that said he begins to exit the cell, which is likely a since of relief to all the other officers in the room.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        It's not even just that Yuliana ''doesn't'' drink, though certainly she was raised not to, culturally speaking.

        Given the amount of medications she's on... the fact is that she ''can't'' drink, even now her hand is free.

        Still. It's a gesture.

        "All right," she nods, as Treize concludes their meeting. "I will." Let him know, that is. She ''does'' want to try and get that message out to her wife.

        ... she might even request some ''actual'' reading material, despite all her pride.

        She doesn't bother any of the officers coming to pack things up. She is ''minding her manners.'' And when they're done, and Treize offers those final words, she nods. "You've been very kind," Yuliana says to him, in turn. "Farewell, Colonel."

        The warden, of course, waits for everyone to be clear of the cell and the door to be locked before he releases the rest of her bindings.

        She's ''still'' a threat, as far as his orders go.
</poem>