[b]Erubescan Citadel[/b]

Sairan was a shit eating rat. A very stupid rat, at that- or such a clever one that Botrelle could not pin down exactly what he was up to. The more obvious and likely explanation was the former, of course, but the penalties for underestimation were not a tax she was willing to pay. [i]'Evil'[/i] and [i]'rotten'[/i] were awfully big words for an alleged man of science to be using while under preliminary investigation. Exactly where the department had dug up the headcase from beat the hell out of her- he either had the worst comedic timing of anyone in the Citadel, or the best. 

She wanted to backhand that look off of his face, but she knew how to hold her own leash. She crossed her legs under the table so that the toe of her left heel tip-tapped against the leg of the desk while she waited for him to finish whatever nonsense he had to say. 

Her lips quirked up in the corner at his question. 

He was not in the proper chair to be throwing accusations of moral right and wrong, and certainly not in the chair to be asking any questions. 

[color=#D2B8C5]"That's a rather interesting take you've got,"[/color] she said, pausing to pull his file up onto the glassy surface of her desk. [color=#D2B8C5]"Aran Sairan, forty-five, now... No instances of rebellion or investigation- A clever slumboy who climbed the ranks like some Cinderella story. And now..."[/color] She furrowed her brow and looked back to the man sitting before her. [color=#D2B8C5]"Now you've decided that the work you spent most of your life either doing or struggling to break into is somehow some... some sort of mad science? Your mission in your work- you think the mission of the people here is some contrived mission to do what? Be evil? I'm not sure I understand, Mister Sairan."[/color] Her expression fell into a searching, tight-lipped frown, and she steepled her fingers on the table between them. 

[color=#D2B8C5]"War is hell. Have you ever heard that?"[/color] Her voice was soft, her glare intense. [color=#D2B8C5]"An old human General said that- And a good one, for a human. W.T. Sherman."[/Color] She didn't expect him to know exactly who that was- it wasn't as if people outside of Command had to take strategy courses. But she did expect him to listen. [color=#D2B8C5]"He said something else, too- Though people repeat it less because it isn't quite so clean:

"War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over."[/color]

Botrelle's eyes skimmed over his expression, searching for any sign that what she was saying registered. Perhaps a laugh. A sign that he was, in fact, a prank being pulled on her by someone trying to make her squirm at his gross incompetence. 

[color=#D2B8C5]"We are at war, Mister Sairan. We are at war to protect our way of life- Free thought, the ability to choose our own paths, our own love, even- it's all on the line, if we fail against Liberty. And sometimes, to win a war, you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. Even the seemingly cruel sort must, at times, be made. 

We are the keepers of that greater good, here. The people out there- [i]most[/i] people in this Kingdom aren't strong enough to bear that weight. So we, we 'people with no actual morals,' was it, now?"[/color] Her expression soured. [color=#D2B8C5]"We have to carry it on our own.

"And we certainly do not conveniently [i]forget[/i] that sort of duty to protect those who cannot handle the information in the middle of a morning meeting over our bagels and orange juice."[/color] 

She let her gaze break from his features, the intensity replaced by a more simple tiredness. Her hands came to rest in her lap. 

[color=#D2B8C5]"So why, Mister Sairan, are you hellbent on tearing that down, as of now? Are you trying to make a fool of the department, or are you really, honestly dumb? Have you got anything less juvenile to say for yourself than 'I forgot?' Because I assure you, there are people above me who ask such questions with far less patience."[/color]