"Don't you play the cosmopolitan card on me," Sonia snaps before she can stop herself. She wishes Byerly would just look at her. It seems like cheating, somehow. "Those people weren't making war on us. I haven't forgotten the Cetagandans are human, Byerly. That's what makes it worse. It'd be easier if they were monsters. And I cannot hate all of Cetaganda -- it would exhaust me completely -- but the people here? The men who killed two of Piotr's armsmen and more villagers than I could count before they took me away? Don't ask me to be friendly with them. That's too much to ask."

Her gaze falls again, though, and she rubs her forehead where Tarn had struck her with the stunner. It hadn't left much of a conspicuous mark after the med techs had treated her while she was still stunned. Just a little cut, a little brusing, mostly hidden by her hair. Byerly has a point about Micah -- that's one person Sonia might be able to safely trust -- but she knews only a few outsiders here. Their first impressions hadn't been good.

"I don't...know how much I want to be around the outsiders, either." Her voice is very small, and she shifts uncomfortably. "Some of them were at the village, helping -- fighting. I'm...uneasy."

It's far too mild, a euphemism for scared. She hadn't seen much of Natasha in all the chaos, no, but Tarn had been enough. Sonia knows how to recognize a true sadist when she sees one.