The woman from Pulse stood on the bridge, one hand on her hip, the other balancing her spear against the floor, staring at the window. Cid approached her with caution -- she seemed more relaxed now than she had when they had taken her, but she'd still knocked down a dozen of his best men, and Rygdea was likely to be several more hours in the infirmary. "Pardon me."

She turned, blue eyes snapping as she looked at him. "What do you want? Why are you holding me captive?"

"Not captive," he replied, taking a careful step closer. "Protective custody."

"Hmmph!" She flipped her spear over her shoulder to hang it off her belt, then crossed her arms. "Seems like captivity to me." Cid could read it on her face: the impatience to be gone, the urgency of her errand. He was an obstacle to her goal, nothing more.

In that case, he would have to present himself as the means to her end. He opened a hand and held it out to her, a gesture of peace. "You could join us."

"Join you?" She snorted, then shook her head. "The Cocoon military doesn't usually welcome l'Cie, especially not when they come from Pulse. Tell me why I shouldn't be fighting my way free of this ship right now."

"Because we're on the same side." Cid let his hand clench into a fist. "You would see the fal'Cie destroyed, the government of Cocoon fallen from power? So would I. We have become too dependent on the fal'Cie, too soft, too vulnerable. We would be better off living like the people of Pulse: partners with the fal'Cie, not slaves or even servants."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Dissidents within the Cocoon military?" Cid nodded, and she shrugged. "All right, tell me more."

Cid felt the quick tug from his brand, the one that told him he was on the right track; he took a deep breath to keep from gritting his teeth. "You say that you can't remember why you and your partner were in the Vestige. But it seems likely enough that your goals and mine align. If you join us in the Calvary, I will help you find her."

He heard the hiss of a sharp breath between her teeth. Yessssss. The sound echoed in his head, the rasping whisper that Cid had come to hate. She is listening, and soon you will have her.

For a long moment, she stood there, and Cid waited, almost holding her breath. When she finally shifted, it was to hold out her hand. "All right," she said. "Can't make any promises, but let's see if we can work together. The name's Fang."

Cid allowed himself a brief smile, and took her hand to shake it, letting her envelop his hand in her strong grip. "Welcome aboard, Fang. I'm sure we'll have a productive partnership. Now tell me about your friend."