"Hey. Get up. Hello? Hey, Rise and Shine."

A guard was tapping the door to Robert and Mitori's cell. Mitori is heard just grunting in her sleep.

"Get up, BOTH of ya!"

The guard hit the door with a baton. The clangs and bangs that result from doing so wake the red and green killers with a start.

"Agh!" The Red-Clad Shooter fell from his bottom bunk, groaning as he hit the ground.
"Jeez... Reminds me of my training days."

The pair got up, Robert dusting himself off and rubbing a lump somewhere in his hair.

"Warden's ready to see ya."
——————
Up in the depths of space, Shiro's eating chips in the lounge room, and playing some card game with some crewmates.

"I love flights between missions. Nothing to do, no one to say "Hey, Angel Girl, grab this". Finally."
"Yeah, the boss is horrible sometimes! He once had us fix his private deck, for no extra overtime!"
"What? Did you have a union?"
"Yeah, he lets us have a worker union."
"Well, damn."

A brief pause passed.

"Anyways, was it your turn, right?"
"Yep. Deal me." Dared a blonde Crewmate wearing a yellow overcoat.
"Your loss." The Angelic Impostor commented, before dealing the poor guy an absurd amount of cards, none of which were useful to him.
"Wait- NOO-"
————————————
Robert and Mitori, escorted by a pair of brutes comparable to the winners of the last Deadlifting Olympic challenges, were being dragged down a long, well polished hallway.

"Here we are. The Warden's Office."
"Guy ain't here yet, so bear wit' us and wait inside, alright?"
"S-sure thi-thing. SIRS! Sure thing, sirs." Robert said through nervous lips.
"Ey, Pete, we got a Soft Boy here! Bah!"
"We thought you'd be soft, Stringbean!"

The guards started laughing, before pushing the two into the Warden's office, and lumbering off in laughter.
As Robert got up, he looked around, and his eyes widened.

"Holy Shitake Mushrooms!!"
"Robert, if I get up, and see torture devices, I swear to god, I'm gonna have a mental breakdown." Mitori stood up. Thankfully, her mental crisis was averted!

The place was far from a torture room. It was more of what you'd expect for a Lawyer's office, in all honesty. A few full bookshelves with codes of conduct, going from last year all the way to 1973, a glass ball on a small pedestal, some books detailing iconic court cases, a few works of Kant and Shakespeare here and there... And the rest of the room was fairly bland. Only a poster or two, a desk, computer with camera footage.

"Why the hell did you scream, Robert?"
"I dunno. I was expecting a guillotine. I remember Shiro mentioning once that all prisons have a guillotine with our names on it." Robert shrugged.
"When's the last time one of those tall tales was ever true?"
"Uhhhh... I don't remember. Wait, don't tell me, November 35th? Wait, no, 26 days ago?" Robert mulled the question over in his head.
"I- No, that- I was being rhetorical, Robert."
"I knew that! Totally did, and I was joking! Hahaha... Oh look, mushrooms." Robert's attention quickly deviated from the realization that he'd missed a rhetorical cue of some sort, to a bowl of mushrooms on a desk. He ran right to them, declaring "Hey, they're Shitake!"

Mitori could only bury her face in her palms out of exasperation.
—————————
In deep space, near Planet 09P-C, the shuttle "Skeld-T-203" was entering orbit.

"Attention, Crewmates. We are near the end of our trek to 09P-C, also called, "Polus". We are in orbit, and will land in 6 hours. Alexander, finish up any cooking, as the tremors may result in spillage, and we know how you feel about that."

"Do they always call specific things out like that?" Shiro inquired to a black hooded figure next to her.
"Yeah, it's pretty common. Plus, Alexander doesn't take it well when his recipes are messed up by what is known as an "Act of God"." The figure responded as she turns to Shiro to show her face. Dark skin, white hair, blue eyes. "Are you new here?"
"Yep. Transferred from the 7th Floor."
"The Brig? Holy hell. I've heard they only trust the hardasses there." The snow-haired girl was clearly impressed by Shiro's lie.
"Yep. They've got brutes. Takes time to really break em."
"Really?"
"Main reason it takes so long is because they're either very stupid, or think they're too smart for jail."
"Isn't that just being stupid as well...?"
"Kinda. Lemme explain..."
—————————
Robert and Mitori were, after a strange wait, face to face with the warden. Olive skinned, a bit on the older side, shaved head (or lost his hair, it's hard to tell) short beard, and a sleek gray suit with a black tie. 50's styled.

It was an awkward time. For what felt like years, no one said a word. It was like they were playing chess, and analyzing each other. Sizing their opponent up before sending a pawn.

Until the warden finally moved his pawn.

"You two are a very distinct case here. We've done various identification tests, and you are basically concealed like you work for the Men in Black. No fingerprints, your DNA scans are a mess, and we don't even have full names for you two. You are simply "Mitori" and "Robert"."
"It's cool isn't it? We're like spies. No, a Battle Couple!"
"Is that so?"
"Yeah- Mphhh-"

Mitori quickly put her palm over Robert's mouth to stop him from going further.

"We're not a couple, though."
"Denial... Hm..."

The warden shrugged, sighed, and looked at Mitori bluntly.

"I don't understand your situation here, nor do I honestly care. I'm responsible for you, and at a few hundred others. I can't individualize an experience. This is Jail, not a school."
"Could've fooled me, yknow?" Robert blurted out.
"... Not important. Look, I know your exact circumstances for being transferred here were unorthodox, but your sentences stand. I'll have you two in a Couple's Cell to serve it out."
"We're not a coup-"
"Sorry, Mitori, but protocols are protocols."
—————————