Stephanie's eyes widened as she studied the individual. "We need to get the lid back on," she said quickly. "Hurry. We need to get rid of her before-" The woman took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes flying open as she woke suddenly. Her eyes were peculiar, the irises white surrounded by a line of black.
Basel took a step forward his eyes bright with excitement and curiosity. "Those tattoos.. She is a royal."
The girl's eyes met his and she frowned, considering the people above her. "Where am I?" she asked quietly, sitting up on her elbows. "Why am I here?"
Amira had her weapon up still, her sharp gaze wary. Basel stepped closer, steepling his fingers. "I think a better question is why were you in there?"
She paused, looking around at the crew curiously. "I... I don't remember," she said, looking around at her chamber. "It's been a long time."
She frowned right back, looking slightly irritated. "Anya," she said after a moment. "Anya Regelsi." This was confusing. Basel would recognize the name Regelsi, but their dynasty had died almost 50 years prior. The current royal family was descended from the Regelsi family.
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening. "No. Not quite. It might surprise you that it's 6433."
She paused, looking at him with something like disbelief, her brows furrowing. "Excuse me? This isn't funny," she said, putting her hands on the rim of the container, trying to stand up. "I would like to return home. This isn't funny." A bullet clicked into place as Stephanie lifted her gun instantly, pointing it at Anya's forehead. "No jokes here, your highness," she said coolly. "Please, return to your seat." Anya's eyes widened and she focused on the gun for a moment. Something in her tattoos glowed and Stephanie's finger tightened on the trigger. "I know your powers, Madam," she said. "I know what you are trying to do, but mark my words that my last action will be to kill you where you stand. Return to your seat."
Basel circled the container, keeping behind those with weapons. He tapped his chin. "That cargo box.. it must be like a cryogenic chamber. But why? What is the last thing you remember?"
Anya looked understandably distressed, sitting back down. "Uh... I had... I don't remember very well. I was captured on a ship, and they forced me into this..." Her brow furrowed as she tried to recollect. "This large, white room. It was cold. It was incredibly cold."
Stephanie was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "Lie back down, your Highness," she said coldly. "You're not our problem." Anya's eyes widened and she looked around at the crew. "W-what? No, wait. Please don't make me go back again. I don't want to go back asleep." "I wasn't asking," Stephanie replied sternly, her gun trained on Anya.
Basel raised his hands smoothly, looking up at Stephanie. "You know I value your orders and opinions," he said easily, "but I think you should reconsider. Sending her back would mean lost cause, but if we kept her with us... well, think of the possibilities!"
"What possibilities?" she asked, her gun unwavering. "She's a lost princess, Basel. We're only asking for trouble by keeping her here."
"A lost princess," he agreed, "who has powers and access to the royal family. You never know. Maybe she could help on our journies or they would pay to get her back."
She squinted at him for a moment. "This was the treasure that we were supposed to collect, Basel," she replied sharply. "They want us to use her for ransom. Are you willing to do that?"
He pursed his lips before his shoulders relaxed. "It's not my call. I'm just giving you my opinion on the matter."
