Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three.
We do not merely destroy our enemies;
we change them.
WELCOME TO THE END OF TIME.
The Regency has its spies and its cloaks and daggers. You may have even brushed shoulders with one and not have known it. There is a place for such tactics. You are not in that place any longer.

On missions like these, the Regency prefers to keep its base close, in a intradimensional time pocket. You're apart from Gallipoli, no longer technically on Earth or in the 1910s. There are multiple segments to this complex base of Regency operations, but you can only really see two places...
THE BRIG
This is your holding cell, a constantly shifting room of indesctructable grey squares. It folds and bends to hold you and your seven companions as you await... something.
There are no guards in this place. There are no bars to look through, or sounds to listen for. You are simply in the box, left to your own devices.
Occasionally, holes will open in the ceiling, and packaged, processed rations will fall from them before immediately closing. This is the only way to measure time. There are always exactly eight bags, each with the name of one captive written on the side in their native language.
Holes will occasionally open in the walls, and they always bring with them a searingly bright light. Sleeping and sitting is difficult on the ever-shifting floors, and when you try, it always seems like a pinhole of light opens right on your eyes. Even leaning on the walls has mixed results.
DON'T GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT
The windows of light that open always stay very small, making it difficult to look through, and always pour radiantly bright, hot light. If you're feeling particularly self-punishing, you might be able to peek at an odd angle and see something of the world outside without being completely flashblinded. The world outside the Brig looks rather like the interior of a Dyson sphere. In the center, a great, bright, hot energy radiates out like a sun, and it reflects off the exterior globe the pocket dimension functions within, illuminating everything from every angle. The Brig floats around it in a slow orbit, as do many other similar looking box-rooms made of similar material, connected by constantly moving tubes and chutes. Some boxes have more chutes going toward them than others. No chutes connect to the Brig, unless someone is about to disappear into the floor...
Getting this view will be difficult, but not impossible; it will just take characters willing to blind themselves with an overabundance of light multiple times until they get the correct angle, allowing them to see outside for roughly a half second before the room shifts to redirect the light back into their eyes.
not so solitary confinement
Occasionally, the cube will split into smaller segments, throwing characters together with others at random in close confinement. This is unpredictable and fast, splitting you off from the whole for what feels like hours at a time, often with only one companion as the cube shifts and squirms around you.
technical malfunction
The power nullification is still in full effect. No magic or special abilities rule this place. Your only master are the walls, undulating with no discernible pattern, always moving.
The Regency has also attempted to break the BCE's translation capabilities, but due to the fact that COST-jailbroken BCEs work on a different system than Regency ones, this is an intermittent problem that occurs sporadically. (ie, have the translation capabilities blink in and out at your discretion.)
THE OTHER PLACE
And then, suddenly, the floor drops out from underneath you. The shifting walls make a hole perfectly your shape and size, and sucks you through. The hole closes neatly, immediately, and you slide along in a world of boxes pressing close to your skin as you are moved from one holding area to another.
When you emerge, you do so in total darkness. Power nullification is still in effect, but even if you can naturally see in the dark, it doesn't matter. All you can see is an endless blackness, and walking doesn't help. You can keep walking for however long; there is nothing to walk to. The floor is perfectly level, but you'll never reach a wall.
Finally, there's light in the distance. A spotlight from nowhere shines down on a person with the head of a jackal. Looking closer, you'll find it's some kind of highly technical mask. They are wearing armor that obscures their exact shape-- no skin shows, no hint of identity or personality, just the cold eyes of the mask. They turn to you, and speak in a voice clear and soothing, almost gentle.
"I am Kebechet. I have been looking forward to speaking with you."
WOW THIS IS LATE AS FUCK FORGIVE ME
[ Interestingly, for however much her words may be a goad, she does not speak them to incite rage in Mordred. Dany's eyes lower to Mordred's chest following the gesture. Absent movement. Defensive movement. Protective, alleviating--she's not sure which.
It's much like the way she folds her arms over her chest, as if to ward off the haunting words of her own father. ]
A knight as strong as you shouldn't be cowed so easily, [ she agrees. ] They underestimate us both, ser, likely because we are women. That's where their mistake lies.
[ She's gazing up at the ceiling now. ]
The knight who is a match for the greatest king in history... Or a match for a queen.
:*
[ She refuses to admit that Kebechet is faster or stronger than her. Defeat her at full strength, and maybe then she'll accept it. (But probably not.)
Flexing her fingers in and out of a fist, she suddenly narrows her eyes, staring at Dany. ]
A woman can't be a king. I should kill you for even calling me that. [ The threat is real, but almost automatic. She considers her options for a moment, and seems to calm herself. ] ... But you clearly have some sort of plan. Speak, and perhaps I'll spare your life.
no subject
Who has need to be king when they can be queen? [ Men. Men always tried to assert their power. ] Men bend the knee to us. Valar morghulis. Do you know what that means? All men must die. Are you so sure you wish to be a king?
[ What a stupid thing. She would not be cowed by a man any longer. ]
We take what is ours with fire and blood. I offered Kebechet mercy, and that offering was spat upon. [ She smoothes her fingers along the cubes. ] You are a knight and I am a queen. The Regency, to my understanding, wishes for me to negotiate my kingdom. Bend the knee to me, and we will negotiate with them.
no subject
I killed the last king I served. That doesn't worry you, O Queen?
[ She smirks, clearly not ashamed of the confession. If there's one thing she's learned, though, it's that Dany isn't easily intimidated, and she doesn't expect her to be now. Even Mordred has to respect that sort of indomitableness. ]
... I'm Mordred, the Knight of Treachery. If it's me, it makes sense that I'd betray COST. [ For the sake of her own wish, her own greed. Half-mockingly, she kneels, smirk still firmly planted on her face. ] Very well. Let us see how your idea plays out.
no subject
[ She'd rather avoid anything sentimental or personal. ]
I imagine your reasons were to be a benefit to those you've sworn an oath to protect.
[ No, it doesn't worry her, for she would never truly be Mordred's queen. She's no desire to rule this one, but to use her strength in an alliance which would benefit them both? Certainly.
And it seems as if the pieces are setting neatly into place. Her lips twist in dry amusement as Mordred kneels, and Dany's leaning forward, ghosting the backs of her fingers along Mordred's jaw. ]
The Knight of Treachery who now serves the Dragon Queen. I will take what is mine with fire and blood, and you will help me.
[ Just as soon as they found a way to contact their captors. ]