Piotr only acknowledges that with a jerk of his head off to the side. He doesn't trust Miles to conduct an interrogation at this point, but Piotr won't deny he's clever -- and Miles's general unpopularity among the soldiers might be something Piotr could use.
"Vorhalas here has been remarkably close-mouthed about his co-conspirators." Filling Miles in, clearly. Piotr's tone isn't conversational or bored, but there is a mundanity to it that defies the situation. The man in question is strapped to a chair, mussed and gaunt and blue at the lips, old blood caked brown over his skin and clothes. His fingertips are nothing but bloody messes, some of the nails missing altogether. Piotr doesn't bat an eye.
"Now, that would be quite honorable of a man," he goes on, and then his voice becomes quite icy, "but only if he had any honor to begin with. But you, Vorhalas -- I shan't flatter you by calling you a disease, but you are a symptom of it, and you would serve as a vector if you could."
There's no heat in Piotr's voice, none whatsoever -- not even anger, really. But it is filled with a loathing so sharp and so fierce it must be nauseating just to contain it. Piotr addresses Miles without looking at him.
"And beyond all that, he is a saboteur. Surely you know by now that he's the reason we're all slowly starving." There is a flicker of fury in there, like the hiss of a radiator. "Illyan, didn't the alarms go off prematurely when you infiltrated the base last month?"
no subject
"Vorhalas here has been remarkably close-mouthed about his co-conspirators." Filling Miles in, clearly. Piotr's tone isn't conversational or bored, but there is a mundanity to it that defies the situation. The man in question is strapped to a chair, mussed and gaunt and blue at the lips, old blood caked brown over his skin and clothes. His fingertips are nothing but bloody messes, some of the nails missing altogether. Piotr doesn't bat an eye.
"Now, that would be quite honorable of a man," he goes on, and then his voice becomes quite icy, "but only if he had any honor to begin with. But you, Vorhalas -- I shan't flatter you by calling you a disease, but you are a symptom of it, and you would serve as a vector if you could."
There's no heat in Piotr's voice, none whatsoever -- not even anger, really. But it is filled with a loathing so sharp and so fierce it must be nauseating just to contain it. Piotr addresses Miles without looking at him.
"And beyond all that, he is a saboteur. Surely you know by now that he's the reason we're all slowly starving." There is a flicker of fury in there, like the hiss of a radiator. "Illyan, didn't the alarms go off prematurely when you infiltrated the base last month?"