I hear it will be a good piece of theatre that topples them. [He puts down some troops in Australia.] I'm rather surprised you wrote to him. Might I ask what you said? [Rhade left the opening. Braxiatel had to take it.]

[He rolled his eyes up.] I apologized for being so competitive. [A Nietzschean apologizing for being competitive.] He asked me later why I had.

[He allows himself a little snort of amusement at that.] And why him? When there must have been a number of others you to whom you showed your competitive side.

He still cared about his people. Mine turned into something I abhored. I admired his devotion, even if his arguments were somewhat flawed.

[Braxiatel's smile is a little fond at the thought of Narvin's flawed arguments. He's still remembering the very beautiful 'I am not prejudiced against lesser species' declaration.] Yes, he's quite good at that. Despite everything, he still believes that his people are worth saving.

So do you. Some of them. [He placed a piece in Africa and looked back to the rule sheet as he double-checked something. And then back at Africa again.] When he asked why, I asked him in return, "What's the difference between having nothing to lose and nothing to gain?".

[Braxiatel is being generous with where he places his pieces instead of grouping them, but there's a method behind it.] Did he know the correct answer?

[He'll start grouping them eventually. He's sticking to border country now.] He grasped the technicalities. [This is what Narvin is good at.] The difference to you?

[He is, with his placements, quietly undermining larger cohesiveness.] Somebody with nothing to gain is without purpose. Somebody with nothing to lose is without limitation. The difference between surrender and liberty.

That's the unusual thing. For that week, I felt as though I had nothing to lose no matter what choice I made for myself. I had already forsaken my life and involvement with me would bring about eventual destruction. That all of my attempts to protect my people ended in their corruption, and it infuriated me and I knew that I was less than everyone.

But now, I have nothing to gain. I'm confined here, the only one of my kind, snarling ideologies at collectivists despising my position of inferiority. I hate that just as much. [He examines the piece he's holding, wondering what that uniform would have actually looked like, before he puts it within the Europe/Asia border.] But I do still have an interest in your well-being, even if now it's not attempting to remove myself from the equation. So whatever is troubling you, I wouldn't be opposed to a metaphorical scenario involving allusions worthy of the Heletian Empire you mentioned.

[He smiles a little at that. By being direct about his feelings at the time, Rhade has blocked Braxiatel's tactic of prying into them.] Are you aware that I am more honest with you than I am with most? Or perhaps I should ask if you understand why.

[By the way. Chartreuse feels it is time to make her way from under the sofa around to behind Rhade's chair. She has deemed them suitably distracted.]

I've suspected. I've even wondered about it. Being fairly confident that it's of mutual benefit I've perhaps somewhat unwisely not pondered the issue too deeply. [He misses the impending feline attack as he has become distracted.]

It's something you may want to think about. [He doesn't elaborate.]

Narvin was grievously assaulted the other day. I have no doubts that he's going to use the death toll to escape the permanence of his mutilation.

[That got a glance off to the side, before he mentioned Narvin. An eyebrow climbed a bit in surprise.]

Mutilation? [Okay, the other brow pops up to join it.] Who's responsible?

His inmate. Ardent didn't want him communicating something. [Rhade can infer what happened.]

I see. And direct retaliation is somewhat limited. I can imagine what I would do if a member of my Pride was harmed, I had the resources to take action, but at the same time run the risk of losing those resources. Ultimately, for future need, self-interest prevails.

That's likely the wisest course of action. [And something for North America.]

[Rhade, a cat is trying to catch your hand.]

Just don't use your resources. Use those of- [And suddenly Rhade makes a strange sort of noise, half rising out of his chair and really looked for a moment as if he were going to hop onto the table.

But then he settles down again as if nothing happened. Because nothing did happen, did it? Artfully choosing more perimeter forces, in this case Alaska.]

-someone else. That is if his warden doesn't deal with it in a suitably ruthless manner. He seems like the sort that enjoys lashing out himself when he has the chance. [He might be batting at a cat beneath the table.]

[Braxiatel lifts an eyebrow, but chooses not to comment on the combat going on under the table.] I'm not vengeful—no, that's not true. I have an ironic sense of humour. [Is humour the same as vengeance? Apparently, yes.] But I am not one to take vengeance. No irrational behaviour: the Enlightenment ideal.

That depends on your definition of "irrational". [At least the ideas of revenge can be comforting, but he doesn't know that Brax has gone through these motions already.]

Harm caused for harm's sake falls under my definition of irrational.

[Chartreuse is done with the hand now and would be interested in sleeping on Rhade's lap.]

I don't think you would have done anything for harm's sake. Generally, I'm of the opinion that you prefer to help more than harm. It may be the case that one is an unfortunate circumstance of the other. [He looks down at the warm thing curling up in his lap, and he smiles slightly to himself.

She knew that he wore his black uniform today. She must have. Cats can always sense these things. She's getting petted anyway.] You're going to turn me into an optimist. I'll be the embarrassment of all the soldiers I know.

[Cats always know. At least Sherry is grey rather than outright white.]

Why shouldn't soldiers be optimists? If you're going to fight, I should hope you have enough optimism to believe in whatever you're fighting for. [Which is simultaneously an optimistic and cynical declaration.]

I believe in what I'm fighting for. But I'm also known as a very harsh cynic among m- the crew. [Not his crew. Not anymore. For some reason scratching Sherry behind the ears is almost comforting. That and admiring Brax's job at a contradictory sentence.]

[This is possibly because Chartreuse is purring?] You can call them your former crew, if it's easier.