He grits his teeth and keeps his expression placid, the way he'd done through years of training spent being demeaned and degraded by Bric, of taking orders from barely competent mongrels who were content to spend their lives like small change on meaningless objectives, of being called meat can and wet droid by Republic citizens who sat at control consoles relaying orders while he and his brothers dropped into combat zones by the tens and hundreds of thousands so citizens wouldn't have to. He's not going to lose his cool over this.

"I think it's something you'll need to figure out before you leave, and your warden can only help you do it, not do it for you." He shrugs. "When you get a permanent warden they'll be given your file, though from what I've learned that's not always particularly useful in figuring out what the Admiral expects you to change either."