Yujo started at the clock that sat on the wall on the opposite side of her jail cell as it ticked over to 5.45am. It was the third day since being brought into custody and it was starting to feel as if she had forgotten how to sleep.

The first was a misdemeanour. 'Reckless Diving without proper supervision.'

“If you are found guilty of the misdemeanour you will be sentenced to serve 30 days. However, that will be moot because you will have served that time here waiting to go to trail."

For an attempt to soften the blow, the Grand Marshal was not succeeding.

"Your license would also he revoked and you would be barred from taking the test again for a year"

Yujo recalled her attempts to somehow bore a hold though his head with her mind if only to get him to stop talking. By the time she got her license back she the orphanage would only be able to talked about in the past tense.

“There is also the matter of that year only starting after you have served any other sentence."

"You mean the felony."

Yujo's drilling stare had no effect on the Grand Marshal.

"Er, yes. Crossing the border is a serious offence which has a minimum tariff of five years.”

In five years time, no one would even remember that there was a St. Aldrin’s in the first instance.

“Then there’s the matter of your national service.”

Yujo wished she could forget that part but her mind wasn't having any of it.

“As you passed the legal minimal age for enrolment as a convicted offender you will need to undertake your national service as part of your sentence."

Seven whole years because of one stupid mistake.

Yujo knew that being acquitted was a forlorn hope. No court in the land would acquit her of the diving charge. With that assumption of guilt, throwing the book at her for the felony would be easy.

The ceasefire had provisions for the selk and the unpredictability of their prey. It offered no such safe harbour for the republic's citizens.

Being flung across the border was no excuse.

It was far too much of a stretch to expect whatever argument the two-bit public lawyer she would be provided could do anything. They more than likely point out to the law’s allowance for the selk hunts and base their case on that. That would be shot down so fast that it wasn’t worth the energy to even entertain the thought.

Even if the lawyer was able to successfully argue Yujo's case it wasn’t like the jury wouldn’t disregard it anyway. They all knew that upsetting the status quo risked upsetting the ceasefire and dragging both side to negotiations.

She knew first hand where that lead. She had her scars to prove it.

There was also the selk perspective to conciser.

They would want nothing less than the stupid human to go rot in jail forever for being stupid enough to go anywhere near their precious ocean and-

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She stopped herself.

Those sorts of thoughts were starting to become random rants and they were not helping.

She sat up on the bed. As she turned upright she saw that it was 8.30am. On time with her thoughts, the breakfast slid though a fitted slot in the cell door. The guard who delivered it would return in half an hour. This was to pick up the plate and also to ensure that Yujo hasn’t tried to do herself in with the plastic spook.

Overcome with hunger, Yujo walked picked up the tray and sat on top of the bed to eat the scrambled eggs. They were a little too punched up with salt and pepper for her palette but otherwise it was not the worst breakfast she ever had. If it was any worse than the food she had at the hospital it would be good grounds to sue the militia on grounds of cruel and unusual punishment.

The first year of Yujo's life memorable life was spent in the hospital getting her broken back fitted with a prosthetic.

CyMail, short for Cybernetic Malleable Auto-Intelligent Ligament, was a system that allowed amputees to control and integrate their prosthetic though a medically implanted interface disc. This came at a cost of putting a significant load on the amputee's capabilities which in turn would stunt the body’s development. Whilst preventing this issue was as simple as taking the CyMail off at night this wasn't an option for Yujo and her spine. This left her shorter than most people her age.

The guard’s tapping of the cell door and curt grunt of “Are you done?” dragged Yujo back to the reality of her half-eaten breakfast. She looked at the small sliver of scrambled eggs and the small bit of toast that sat on the plate and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to eat it.

After placing the spoon on the plate, she walked over to the door, tray in hand, and slid it though the same hole that it had come through. The guard then slid a drawstring bag though the same hole and grunted something about making herself presentable.

With a click of the door, Yujo knew that she could expect some privacy to wash herself. After a quick shower, she pulled the bag open and pulled out the spare T-shirt and pare of shorts. They were both far too big for her body and the cord keeping her shorts up dug into her sides. She knew it was asking a bit much for perfectly fitting clothes but these cloths, she thought, was just ridiculous.

A clean change of clothing was necessary as today was the day she would have to confront Rosemary about what she had done.

The Grand Marshall had told her that the reason it had taken that long for them to contact Rosemary was due to her spending the last three days scouring the beach and its surrounding plaza for any sign of Yujo.

Yujo didn’t want to think about it. She was more concerned about what would happen Rosemary saw her again. She turned over on the bed and tried to grab whatever few hours of relative freedom she had left.