By Any Means Necessary

A/N -Been a while, so, wanted to upload something real quick. Originally, I wanted to continue on but decided what I had planned would be better cut up into two chapters, so, this is the first. That, and I found a decent stopping point. Struggled a bit getting back into this, I having finsihed a good part of this chapter a while back and then being sidetracked by other projects. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and as always, any reviews, follows and favorites would be much appreciated.

CH. IV – Ceasefire

While the blinds did their job, it was not done exceedingly well, a stray ray of sunshine filtering through the in between of where the two curtains met and landing annoyingly on her face. The warmth and brightness stirred her awake. While usually more alert, Nikola felt groggy, her head throbbing with a dull pain. All around, it was an extremely uncomfortable awakening. As she got out of bed, she took notice of the scenery, looking out the window to nature. She shook her head, slightly recalling where she was. Or, at the very least, recalling what little she knew.

She knew she was no longer on the Centurion. Knew she was in a forest cabin. And…she knew that an enemy resided here. She could slightly recall her actions the night prior, but, her memory was fuzzy. Or rather, her head hurt too much for her to really bother trying to remember. Regardless, however, she was in enemy territory.

She made her way to the door, following the same path she took last time, trudging tiredly through the single hallway until the home opened to its living area. No sooner had she made her appearance at the hall's opening did she catch the attention of the resident. He turned to her, holding a steaming mug. She could only scowl at him.

The two stood wearily eyeing the other up. From the looks of him, he was just as exhausted as she was. Beneath his eyes were heavy bags, and if she looked further down, she could see just how bruised his neck was. I was so close to finishing him off, she thought. Her scowl only deepened.

The man finally broke the silence. "Would you like some tea?" he offered, motioning with his mug.

Her scowl softened lightly, but she looked at him dubiously.

An action he was not one to miss. "Don't worry," he started, "I didn't put anything in it. Pretty sure that's your forte, not mine. Besides, would be a waste of good tea." He tried his best to come off as endearing, but the joke fell flat what with all the tension between the two.

Regardless, whether she wanted to or not, she let her guard down. She was too drained and in too much pain. If nothing else, he had the chance to kill her while she slept, she thought. But even still, he was her enemy. She could only sigh, head hurting too much to put much thought into what he was playing at. "You damn Burghs, always so obsessed with tea."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her quip. "Actually, I'm Gallian. We have some coffee as well if you'd prefer that."

"So you're Gallian and you choose to drink that crap?"

Another chuckle, this time more embarrassed as he went about preparing a cup of coffee for the snarky soldier. "Yeah, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy it, its just… I think I had my fill over the past couple years while in the service."

He made his way to the modest table, placing her mug down as he took a seat. Warily, she sat as well, opposite from him. The aroma emanating from the mug was divine, any apprehension she felt was immediately shattered as she felt drawn to it. She took a sip, quite enjoying it. The only irritation came from the enemy across from her smiling as if she was a wild animal eating from his hand. It irked her so.

With the rick flavors still dancing on her tongue, she asked, "Oh really? I can't see how anyone could ever tire of this. It's the one redeeming quality of your inferior country." She smirked.

Her venomous words did nothing to agitate him, it seems. Instead, he continued with their conversation. "It's a quiet place, to be sure. I'm kinda surprised that people in the empire know of our coffee's quality," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That said, though, what we were given in the service was…much lesser." She quirked a brow to the awkward man. "It was practically mud," he finished, "both in texture and taste."

She winced slightly at that before pivoting into a much haughtier air. "Those of us in the Imperial Army were treated much better, it seems," she said. She meant it as a brag but Claude did not get riled up at it, choosing instead to remain calm. After all, this conversation was a long time coming.

"Did they?" he asked, sincere and quiet. His features were serious, a tonal shift that made his guest straighten out.

"You trying to say something?" She put her mug down, eyes narrowing. So then, it seems they were finally getting down to business. It's about time. But what he did next stunned her.

He heaved a sigh, deflating slightly. With slumped shoulders, he became very interested in his tea, unable to look Nikola in the eye. "At night…you'd cry out…as if you were having some terrible nightmare, and I…I don't know what you are." He looked up, his eyes seeming even heavier, now weighed down by sadness. "I have fought against you and your comrade, the one named Chiara." She stiffened at the name. "I have seen you both take punishment that would kill any other person, I've seen how you move and operate on the battlefield, and I know you are anything but normal." She gripped her mug more tightly, fighting the urge to leap across the table and attack him once more.

He held onto his own mug, much lighter, enjoying the warmth it gave his fingers. He looked up to her. "A friend of mine, a science officer, has an assumption. That you were experimented on. That they made you into whatever you are now. After all, they seemed to run tests on the Valkyria, why not you too?"

She had to bite her tongue, had to think. He quieted, awaiting her response. "So, what? You serve me some coffee, play the 'good cop' and think I am just gonna divulge information?" she scoffed. "You had best go send in your partner, someone much harder than you, cause you won't be getting anything from me." With a menacing grin, she took another sip.

He quirked a brow at how she acted, confusion plain on his face as he asked, "Partner? What do you mean?"

Already suffering a headache, and, not being known for her patience to begin with, Nikola was getting very fed up with him playing dumb. "Your interrogation partner!" she all but shrieked, voice dripping in annoyance.

He just shook his head, holding up his hands as if surrendering. "This isn't an interrogation. There is no one else, just you and me."

Is he…being honest? He is, isn't he? The man sitting across from Nikola seemed much too genuine. Still, she wouldn't be letting her guard down. "Oh?" she started, coming to her feet, "if that's really the case, then what is stopping me from killing you? I almost finished you off last night," she pointed to her neck, grinning.

"Nothing," he answered simply. "Nothing is stopping you. No one will stop you if you want to kill me, and, no one will stop you from leaving if you so choose to." He turned to face her but ultimately remained seated. "This isn't an interrogation. I'm just asking questions."

"That's what an interrogation is, you dunce."

"Ah…" he couldn't help but to laugh. "I suppose you're right."

She returned with a phony smile, gently placing her mug down before ultimately lunging forward, throwing him to the ground. Once more she straddled him, hands around his neck in a similar position to the day before only with a chair thrown in this time around.

Her eyes quickly darted about the limited space they were in, expecting something, anything to happen, but it was very evident that he had been telling the truth. Coming to this realization, slowly, she peered down at him, her false smile turning genuine as it became sinister, her eyes crazed.

"Well," she said, "it's an interrogation now!"

The hands around his neck applied enough pressure to keep him down, she holding back on stealing his breath once more. Being sore and bruised from the last town, however, even the lighter pressure was enough to make him wince. Looking up to her, to the rabidness of his once-was enemy, he felt every bit her pray, a rabbit in the maws of a feral wolf. It was clear that she could kill him at any moment. Right now, she was just choosing not to. Or rather, just choosing when.

And yet, Claude remained remarkably calm. While discomfort was clear on his features, no panic reached his eyes. His demeanor infuriated her deeply. Does he not know I'm serious? Or…

Does he not care?

His reaction (or lack thereof, rather) took the fun out of it. She was too tired, sore herself, and with seeing there was little enjoyment to be had, she quickly lost interest in the action. Sighing, she got off him, he coughing once free of her. Nikola was, to say the least, unsure. Unsure of what was going on, unsure of what this Federation soldier was playing at, unsure of just what she was doing.

Sitting up from the floor, Claude could only look at Nikola, she sits in her chair, facing away, a distant look to her. Well, no one said this was going to be easy. Groaning, he stands. "So," he eeks out, "what did you want to know?" Looking to him, Nikola felt no danger. There was no fight or flight in either of them, it becoming very apparent that both of the two were too tired for hostilities. At least, for now anyways. He stood so close to her, and yet, she felt nothing.

Her enemy, so open to attack, her enemy, with no reinforcements, her enemy, being so hospitable and honest; none of this makes any fucking sense! He cleared his throat, whether it be out of necessity what with the damage she had done to it, or a sign that he was awaiting an answer, she couldn't tell. Nikola spoke regardless. "Coffee." It was s single word, not so much a question, and with too little bite to be a demand. Even still, he nodded, hummed softly as he took her mug, topping it off once more.

She sipped at it, now more nursing it gently than drinking it down like before. The pain at her temple persisted, her wincing ever slightly at the sounds of Claude picking up the wooden chair, it clacking softly as its legs met the floor boards.

Tensions had run high, but that small burst of action was enough to drain the two, they each looked ragged. And so, sitting together, they drank in fragile silence. It was only once Nikola had finished her second cup that she dared to speak.

"So then…just what the hell is going on?"

"Huh…well, where to begin…" Claude hummed, scratching the back of his neck. While this would have normally irritated the X-O, someone having to 'ponder' when asked a simple question, she was oddly patient. In truth, there was little she could recall since failing Lord Belgar during their attempted strike on the enemy ship. That's right. The last thing she remembered was failing him…and then…what he did to her next…the lights of the operating room, Chiara screaming, my own screams, and then…and then… she trembled as the memories brought about more pain to her head, the recollections like shards of glass lodged in her skull. After that, she could recall little else.

No, there was one thing she could recall…it was-

"Are you okay?" A concerned Claude broke her out of her thoughts. It was a question that didn't need to be asked, she clearly not. "I-I-… What happened? Why are we…here?" Her voice nearly broke despite trying to hold up her brave front.

He frowned at her, feeling helpless to whatever turmoil she must have felt. Staring at his cup, as if to find the answer within his tea, he heaved a breathy sigh, downing the last of the lukewarm liquid, it helping slightly with the soreness in his throat. "We…will be needing some more coffee."