[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr]
That surveillance was how The Promise operated became obvious when there came a knock on Keaton’s door. She’d been informed of how little her right to privacy mattered on Earth through a string of events that had brought her aboard this ship, and now she was being informed that that attitude hasn't changed. Perhaps she’d been too optimistic in thinking change was possible, been too hopeful that signing up for the program recommended to her would dissuade any lingering suspicions about her. Or, perhaps, she’d simply allowed herself to be lulled into a sort of false complacency aboard a ship that was starting to seem as false as its name. 

Whatever the case, she went readily with the guards, giving up whatever identifying information they asked for. Though it was kind of them to wait until the morning after, she would have preferred for them to fetch her as soon as possible. It would have given her more time to think, or at least steered her towards a better usage of her time last night than trying and failing to sleep, but that was probably why the guards had saved their visit for the morning. As such, Keaton had just the car ride to organize her thoughts—to figure out how compliant would she be, how quiet, how deceptive. Lynn had recommended complete silence the previous day, but here in space where there was no justice system, no indication that anyone wanted to play ball and pretend to rule fairly, silence sounded like a one-way ticket to a guilty sentence. Appeasement, though, was a bit much. While Keaton was obliged to give up information because these guards could quite literally decide life and death for her, she was in no way obliged to give it up readily. She’d answer when prompted, and only when directly so. Otherwise, she’d feign confusion or misunderstanding, give them some sort of vague answer. As for deception, that was off the table. The threat of there being someone with fact-checking powers was too high since many a power had abilities in that vein, and honesty had always been Keaton’s brand, her default. If her honesty encouraged them to be happy with getting a little less information from her, even better. 

She arrived at the station to find most of the crew already present. The boy and girl who’d been talking the previous day were still at it, despite the setting, but just as well. There was no reason waiting in silence was a better tactic than trying to make small talk, though Keaton could understand Lynn’s silence at the moment. They’d walked away from the body because they hadn’t wanted to be tied up in the case, but here they were anyway, waiting to be fully tied in. Silence might not be the most comforting to sit through, but in the lobby of the station precinct waiting to be interrogated, it seemed the most logical. Why give away more than what was necessary? Besides, for Keaton’s strategy to work, she needed to come off as someone who didn’t talk much, which was about what she was feeling right now. 

So, giving the others a tight-lipped smile, she took a seat beside Lynn and relaxed into the relative silence, taking in the waiting room as she rubbed one hand over the newly-shortened nails on the other. Donuts—how appropriately unassuming.