Varela chuckled, returning the smirk at the Direktor's tone towards the Admiral. "Y'know I'm told you're supposed to respect those 'admiral' people. "
He glanced back down at his mug as he finished speaking, uncertain of exactly how no matter what ship he was on in whatever house or location within Sirius, warship coffee always tasted almost exactly the same: awful. He shook off the notion, instead returning his attention back to Enfield.
"I am glad to hear you're taking appropriate measures for this thing security. That reflects well on your people. "
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
