The description Sombra had given him about the encounter were quite close to what he was confronted with now. The environment, the way she worded her sentences, her very gallic behaviorial patterns. Ezrael reminded himself that subtlety and approaching the actual topic after encircling it were more appreciated than blatant manouvers. In a way, it was just like their way of waging war.
Entering the office, Ezrael moved over to the seat that was obviously meant for him to sit on. He moved next to it, yet waited for Isabelle to come closer first, intending to sit down when she would be able to as well. "Entourage," he repeated, looking around, then at her. "A rather foreign term, Amiral, for my standards. These people, be it Miss Hookier, or my crew, are everything I have. This warship out there is everything I have." He exhaled, frowning slightly at Chanteloup. "Battlegroup Yukon is fighting your battlegroups, first the Carcassonne, now the Betheny, in the orbit of my homeworld. The planet was evacuated, the very few landmasses protected by OSC's shield domes while debris and stray warheads are falling from the sky. I can't go home. So my warship became my home. And what you call my entourage is what I call my family."
He exhaled again and took in some air before continuing. "Sirius is a dystopian place. Every single house is involved in a war right now. Now the borderworlds and independent worlds are warzones as well, the last neutral worlds dragged into chaos. Curacao, Gran Canaria, space stations getting destroyed left and right. The names of the combatants don't matter, Amiral, and I don't care which side wins what war. People don't know where to live anymore, as no space station and no planet are safe. But here am I, having gotten my hands on one of the most modern warships, armed to the teeth, able to cause exactly the same level of damage and pain I am trying to escape from. But none of this matters if I can't protect what the wars haven't taken away from me yet. The people I consider my family. People who joined me because they don't know where to go else. They don't know.
And this is why I am here, Amiral. There are no safe areas left in Sirius. My hopes are that, while I don't expect it to be much different in Gallia, access to Gallia will at least give us some room to breathe. Room where we don't need to be on edge every single minute, afraid that some pirate, terrorist or military comes around the corner to take from us what we so far managed to protect. I often thought about giving away the Apahanta, selling it, settle down somewhere, but in reality, the chain of events that lead us to the point where we are now, has proven that the Apahanta is an absolute necessity for us to survive in a very hostile galaxy."
Ezrael found himself surprised about the sudden waterfall of words. In the end he even felt a bit awkward about it.
