For Vreta, just about everything he saw on the holoscreen simply felt bizarre to him. Even having lived on Outremer for as long as he had, it was hard to get over how different life could be on this world. In Rothian space, protesting, especially of this variety, was not legal. The idea of hundreds or thousands of people taking to the streets was simply alien to him. On Rothia, someone throwing objects at an enforcement droid would find themselves unconscious in a matter of seconds. “I sometimes wonder if I will ever truly understand this place. Why do they not simply pacify these rioters? Do the droids not have weapons capable of safely incapacitating them?” Vreta asked. By his tone, it sounded like less of a direct criticism, and more of an actual, genuine question. 

Vreta’s focus was split onto the screen when he finally tried a sip of his coffee, only for his face to scrunch up as he nearly coughed it up. He certainly had not expected it to be so, overwhelmingly bitter. “People [i]drink[/i] this?” He muttered. 

Regardless, Vreta did shake off his discomfort to reply to the soldier who approached. “There have been no incidents yet, and no…obvious medical emergencies. Still, my people will need to bring in our medical personnel. Since they will be coming directly from the cruiser, though, that shouldn’t present any security issues for your team.”