[ They can't say Altaïr didn't warn them about being careful. And yet, only a few months ago, he would be right where they are now. He had since learned discretion. In fact, he is going to be very discreet, not letting on at all that he was part of the mutiny. No one would be surprised to see him visit, though. He knows some of the people in here, has been seen talking to them as much as any other Transport. Which is, incidentally, not all that much. He tends to keep to himself among strangers. So it is with some genuine awkwardness that he enters the living quarters and makes it known to the guard that he wishes to bring Chloe some food and chat about the micro wave box.

And he is going to do exactly that. ]

Safety and peace, Chloe. I thought you might appreciate some warm food. I didn't burn it this time.

[ He gives her a look, but only briefly. His eyes periodically flick to the guard from the shadow of his hood. The separate visiting room is a bonus. The less eyes to keep track of when slipping a knife to her, the better. Just a little insurance; he worries how the Initiative will treat the mutineers. He places on a table the small paper box with the pastry steaming slightly inside. It had been easy to warm it in the microwave, as she had shown him how not long ago; even easier to gently slice the seam and replace the filling with one of his small throwing knives, wrapped in a bit of cloth. ]

I think you will enjoy the filling. [ Why does his cool, level voice sound slightly ominous? He really needs to work on his people skills. ] Be careful when biting it. It's hot.