[ A lot of Wash's instinctive dislike for the Cetagandans is wrapped up in things he'd really rather not talk about. He's had enough of military scientists for a lifetime, and there's something that just rubs him wrong about a military base that spends so much of its time on things like elaborate social functions and fashion.

Research programs, classified labs. Too many questions about the neural implants, York telling them more than he'd like and Wash just hating that they knew more about him than he wanted. Plenty of reasons he was uncomfortable. He doesn't hate them, no, wouldn't even really consider them an enemy, but he's glad to be out of there. ]

They just rubbed me the wrong way. I've been a soldier most of my life, and never in a military quite like that. [ Well, of sorts, there's certainly been similarities to what he's used to, but. ] I'm glad to be out of there.