Vreta could have predicted Freyr’s response when their meal arrived, but he still smiled in response. He had a feeling that the conversation had been close to taking on an uncomfortable tone once again, so he did welcome the change of topic when it came. He took a moment to politely thank their waiter, then started to tear into one of his steaks. Differences between Rothian and Human biology did made for some notable differences between their respective acceptable table manners. Rothians did not possess teeth suitable for chewing, so rather than cut it up into small pieces and take his time with it, it was far more natural to simply pick up a steak and rip off a fair chunk, which he swallowed all at once. 

“That is correct.” Vreta answered. “Our population is grown and restricted in a planned and organized manner. It only took a little genetic modification for me to be deemed genetically suitable for reproduction, but I’ve been on the waiting list for reproduction ever since. Though, it is not something I have been in a particular rush for. If I was, I wouldn’t have residence on Rothia. If I was really eager, I would move to one of the newer colonies; I could probably be at the front of the list within a few decades, there. Maybe I will do that during my next retirement? I suppose I’ll see how this career goes. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect I would ever be back to Outremer, or especially the Cradle, when I left those months ago. But then my government requested me, specifically, for this position, and that’s just not an offer I could refuse.”

Vreta took a few sips of wine, then took on a more curious expression. “Once this is all over, and you hopefully have your family back, do you think you will retire?”