"Yes it would seem so, the Minmatar have made their advance and now we must respond. I wouldn't fret too much, these heathens strike out in waves. They won't be able to hold it for long against our forces. Just as a flame at first singes water, in the end the water drowns it. Ours is a battle doctrine of pressure and the Matar will relent in time. As for the other matter, I meant did Mirra specifically decline when you expressed interest in joining?"

"Ah, I see. Understandable how the record will look that way. Mercenary corporations tend to split and merge constantly, so I'm sure many mercs have a similar corp history. And Commander Mirra is quite a discerning recruiter. But we have him in part to thank for the strength, character, and discipline of the Praetoria's fleet."

*Metsar picks up a nearby cup of cold tea and takes a sip, grimacing slightly at the flavor. Definitely a brew better when hot.*

"So what has occupied you lately?"

*Metsar gets up from his desk as Kador settles into the coach with a Matari woman he'd never seen. He strides over and begins to notice their disheveled appearance and splotches of blood staining their clothing.*

"Kador! *slight sarcastic edge to his voice, unhappy.* Would you be so kind as to shed some light on this peculiar situation. When one of my templars enters this emissary covered in blood like he has just been to war and brings along an equally distressed woman I expect an immediate report, not a glass of water."

"I heard of the incident, messy business, and it seems more havoc is being wreaked there every day. I need to find a new place to play cards... However! I'm highly surprised you were present. Pray tell what brought you there? It does not seem like the kind of place you'd frequent."

"Well no harm done I suppose, I just took you for a different sort is all. You two should head into the back and wash, you look like hell. Also, if your servant is going to be staying here with any regularity I will need you to send me her registration and medical files. Can't have undocumented personnel residing here. She may use room seventeen."

*He pulls out a datapad and seems to make a note.*

*The Paladin gives Kador a stern gaze, then looks to Satja, waving her away.*

"She may go and wash. As for you, what possible terror could a holy cathedral of Our Lord possibly hold for one of his templars? How can you shine with the Light of God if you shun the sight of His halls and His altar?"

*Looks incredulous.*

"How in God's name have you been fighting with agoraphobia? That doesn't make any sense, templar."

Denak continues waiting in the lobby of the emissary when he was told that Kador was busy, and overhearing the conversation he had. He sat down on a chair in the lobby, focusing on his own thoughts and trying his best not to eavesdrop on Maikyl's and Kador's conversation.

*Metsar approaches Denak, who is sitting down near the emissary entrance.*

"Ashaltiasten, Mr. Kalamari, and welcome. I apologize for the wait. What brings you by?"

*Maikyl returns the bow.*

"Very well then, you may speak with him whenever he's ready. He still hasn't washed or changed since this ordeal at that Gallentean club. Hopefully it won't be too long. You may wait in the lounge if you'd like. I was about to break fast and I could have Torsuul bring you a plate as well if you're hungry? Of course I understand if you're busy and would like to come back."