[center][h1][color=SlateBlue]Kao Tesra 'Ghost' Em'dyn[/color][/h1][/center]

Prisoner 4304. The Ghost. 

She wasn't the most violent or dangerous prisoner to ever earn themselves a life sentence in the good old LMSIF. Hell, compared to some of the slashers, scumbags, and psychopaths that came to the distant lunar prison to rot, she was practically a saint. Finally, many of the guards thought, a hardened criminal that we could actually deal with for a change. No bloodthirsty pirates or trained assassins for once, just a regular, common thief.

Kao Tesra Em'dyn, however, was no common thief. Pens and notepads and other small keepsakes began to go missing at an alarming rate, only to be found under the Lanun's mattress in a surprise inspection. Accidents became more common thanks to small spills and objects left in dark spaces to trip people up, with every slip and fall accompanied by barely restrained laughter from cell 4304. And the escape attempts...the guards began to lose count of how many times she had been missing from her cell, and by that time Tesra had become well-known as one of the most obnoxious, irritating prisoners that the LMSIF had ever had to deal with.

Needless to say, the guards sent to get Prisoner 4304 weren't sorry to be seeing the back of her, and if Tesra had her way she'd be showing it to them, as well as the area down a bit lower. Sprawled across the desk in her prison cell in a rather awkward but comfortable position, she was already dreaming up her next big escape attempt. The examination that she got pulled into was a very lucky break. The psychiatrist's security cards had gotten her the closest to sweet, sweet freedom, and if she hadn't stopped to get Sigmund she would have been halfway to home by now on a hijacked shuttle before anyone knew she was gone.

Humming a little Lanun pop ditty that sounded like a sea shanty, Tesra pondered how best to get by the guards stationed outside the hangers, idly chewing on the ends of her old-fashioned bionic fingers. The guards had confiscated her old arm when they found out about the metal spike hidden inside it and had given her a decent enough replacement arm. Then when she dissected it and used the components to short out a force field generator during an escape attempt they took that arm and gave her an older prosthetic, as well as a promise that she wouldn't get a replacement if she dissected this one. It was one of the older model bionics designed for a human rather then a Lanun, with the synthetic skin flaking off in places, the joints creaking audibly when she flexed her fingers, and the entire arm feeling numb thanks to a busted tactile sensor. Tesra was sure that the guards went out of their way to find a crummy bionic arm just for her, but she didn't mind. An arm was an arm, and once she got out of here she could get a replacement anywhere. Plus the occasional repairs it needed gave her something to do besides plotting her escape and actually attempting those escapes.

Tesra was stirred from said plotting by the sound of three sharp taps on the wall outside her cell. She stretched her neck and looked towards her cell door to see a couple of guards standing there.

[color=SlateBlue]"Oh wow, company,"[/color] Tesra said, stretching her legs out and pushing up to a sitting position. [color=SlateBlue]"You should have called earlier, I would have gotten out the fine china!"[/color]

"Prisoner 4304," the leftmost guard said mechanically. "Kneel on the ground and place your hands behind your head."

[color=SlateBlue]"Kneel on the ground and place your hands behind your head, PLEASE."[/color]

The guard gave her an icy stare. "I have the authority to get you where you need to go by any means necessary, 4304. Get on the floor and keep your hands behind your head, NOW." With a noncommittal shrug, Tesra gave a noncommittal shrug and leaned over just enough to topple off the desk and somersault into a kneeling position. Closing her eyes, she dramatically thrust her chest out like a dancer and obediently put her hands behind her head.

[color=SlateBlue]"Do what you will to me, vile knave!"[/color] she said wistfully as the force field's hum shut down. A pair of guards flanked around each side of the first one, who stood there with his arms crossed as Tesra was searched, cuffed, and yanked to a standing position by the wrists. As he looked her over, the first guard noticed something strange.

"...why is your jumpsuit on backwards?" Tesra glanced down at her own chest innocently and gave a slight gasp of surprise.

[color=SlateBlue]"Well they always said I didn't have my head screwed on right,"[/color] she explained with a cheeky grin. [color=SlateBlue]"Hey, I can even see my number now! 'h0eh', huh? Boy this was a good idea!"[/color] The guard gave her an incredulous look before dropping the subject and signalling the guards to move out. As she was led out of the cell and through the corridor, whoops and cheers began to sound from neighboring cells. Tesra smiled and pretended to fawn over the attention. Her pranks and escapes weren't making her any friends among the guards, but her antics had certainly made her popular with her fellow convicts. [color=SlateBlue]"You tolerate me, you really tolerate me!"[/color] she crooned passionately. The lead guard just rolled his eyes and kept leading her down the corridor, the click of boot heels on metal tiling giving a tempo to the scattered cheers.

Eventually, the cheers died down, and the odd procession had reached their designation. Without another word, Tesra was unceremoniously shoved into the room to take in the unusual scene before her. For just a moment, she was at a loss for words. Her four eyes darted between the vaguely familiar faces seated in chairs around the table, to the warden and the unknown men in suits at the head, and finally to the unfamiliar guards lining the walls armed with shotguns. A perplexed look crossing her face, she turned to look back at the men and women seated around the table, whom she just realized were prisoners. She didn't recognize most of them, and she doubted that they would recognize her, but there were a familiar few here. Callum Bowman was of course easy to recognize, and she figured the green haired Nohvan must have been that 'princess' with the explosion fetish that the guards occasionally swapped stories about. A pirate king, an anarchist, and a master thief all in one room? It sounded like the beginning of a really corny bar joke. Regaining her composure, she faked a look of exasperation.

[color=SlateBlue]"Come on guys, I said I didn't want a big party this year..."[/color]